Untitled Preface
by Kuroneko Hikage
Summary: Hitsugaya Toshiro thought college life would be simple. Not a chance. Now he has to deal with his lust for a certain Strawberry roommate who's more than he appears, and his abilities as a necromancer to impress Karakura's nighttime residents. IchiHitsu. AU.
1. Exordium

Title: Untitled Preface  
Author: Me! XD  
Rating: M  
Beta: I tried. XP~  
Warnings: Yaoi, Adult content, adult language, violence, sex and gore.  
Disclaimer: Bleach and its characters belong to Tite Kubo. I'm just borrowing.  
Summary: Hitsugaya Toshiro thought college life would be simple. Not a chance. Now he has to deal with his lust for a certain Strawberry roommate who's more than he appears, and his abilities as a necromancer to impress Karakura's nighttime residents.

A/N: Okay, here's the thing. I cross-referenced a bunch of vampire/zombie/monster media -(everything from Rice to Hamilton to Meier to Butcher to Rosario+vampire)- because I wanted to start a really good AU fiction for Ichigo and Hitsugaya. So after learning about the various bad-ass heroes and the sheer volume of how many monsters that could possibly be out there, I managed to squeeze this little drabble out. I first posted it on the IchiHitsu community on Livejournal, and there was some welcome to it. Now I turn to the fans on . Lately, I've been getting the urge to write more of this. Do you think it has a future? Please read on! -Bows-

Prologue - Exordium

I reeked. I was rancid. I was stained. Hence, without any other priority in mind, I stepped into the shower almost immediately after walking across the threshold of the bathroom door, and almost with all of my clothes still on. They were ruined beyond repair, so there was no point trying to save them, another school uniform tossed to the rats(you'll understand that pun later). Stuffed into a tiny chamber with several unrecognizable eviscerated corpses, ground littered with rat feces, and in the air, the unmistakable scent of rot and gore, yes, it was most definitely time to get that stench washed out of my skin and hair. I think I might scrub myself until I bleed.

You're wondering how I got into this disgusting predicament, aren't you? It would be complicated if I told you this situation, like opening a fairytale with the end of an epic battle instead of "once upon a time." Except this story is rated for the.. mature crowd that aren't faint of heart. A bath tub is an odd place for storytelling, I admit, but I'd rather you catch up with the current story now. You could have an unfortunate accident by running into them, or worse - me. Allow me to give you an introduction of sorts.

You might have heard of me, or better yet my parents and relatives; the Hitsugaya family. Owners of several international corporations, giving donations to several charity organizations, and loving wife and husband, it's only natural that they have me, Hitsugaya Tohsiro, child prodigy and genius extraordinaire. A bit lavish? Let me simplify. I look like I'm nine, my actual age is fourteen, and I'm a freshman at Karakura University. As for my appearance, being vertically challenged has its perks, but is often more of a nuisance. Health advisory: don't say that I'm short to my face. My roommate made that error, and my reflex was to punched him in the jaw. It was a great shiner, as expected since I'm a black belt in karate, and my kendo classes are running quite smoothly at school.

People expect me to take over for my parents, but they, as well as I, know that isn't the case. A therapist, perhaps with my own office or at a mental institution, I haven't decided. Ever since taking my Intelligence Quotient examination at a young age, I aspired to learn as many things as possible about various subjects, and I rather liked the effect it has on others around me. A perfect example would present itself as my extremely hot roommate. I swear on my life, he's becoming my personal guinea pig when we graduate.

Didn't know I was into guys? Yeah... I'm just barely coming off of puberty -it comes late for us Hitsugaya's- and my high IQ has, unfortunately, no claim in choosing who I'm attracted to. Yet another prime example; Kurosaki Ichigo, my roommate.

He isn't a total idiot, but he isn't the brightest crayon in the box, either(pun intended). He's an artist, and quite talented, far different than what his family actually does. Ever hear of the Kurosaki Clinic? That is a clinic run by his father, someone who has quite the college resume and an impeccable record. Ichigo is a minor in nursing, and often has to help his sisters when their father is away to seminars and lectures, but that's as close as he gets. I'd drown any day just to get him to kiss me, but the thing is, despite the highly developed skills of my IQ, I can't tell if he's gay or straight. It's all mixed signals to me. But we'll elaborate on this progression later.

So to summarize, I'm a rich genius majoring in psychology, lusting after Nurse Ichigo. Just starting college and bunking with a walking wet dream, I thought my life couldn't get anymore interesting. Fangirls and schoolwork alike, I look upon them now with misty, water-colored nostalgia.

I've never been one for believing in the supernatural. Spirits, like ghosts, would be as far as I would go. The hocus-pocus of witches and the waking dead was nothing but Hollywood's idea of a cheesy B movie. Even as a child, I figured the monsters in my closet and under my bed were merely a figment of my parents' imagination. They liked to tell me scary stories to try and scare me, but each and every one of them failed.

Soaking here in the bath, under a scorching cascade of water and soap, I wish I wouldn't have brushed them off so easily... Various sources of information on the things that go bump in the night could have proven useful for my first encounter with a vampire... And I've found that, lately, as in starting the summer just before I entered the university, dead animals -be it roadkill or a hit-and-run- like to peel themselves off the ground and follow me. Only for a certain distance, then they flopped back down after a block or two, once again lifeless. And it's strange when Ichigo tells me my hands are always cold.

All of this, is only the very beginning. Where my fate leads me, I have no idea. Welcome to my life, my power, and my death.

* * *

EDIT: This is the start of a major overhaul. When my edits are done, I will give the chapter a name and replace it so you can tell I've changed it. Please continue to support me and my writing with reviews, favorites and alerts. Thank you. -Bows-


	2. 2

In the Middle of the Night Arc Untitled Preface: Chapter: 1/?

A/N: Wow, it took a lot of effort to crank this baby out... *_* Please enjoy!

Where to begin... If I go back to the beginning of my power, then we would be reversing time to before my birth, when I was in my mother's womb. I remember the tranquility and warmth, floating in a sea of embryonic protection. Are you surprised I remember that far back? I am a genius child, after all. My brain developed solidly and quickly, a photographic memory. It was dark, there was no sound, and I felt the rushing pulse of our shared heartbeat. It was tangible, her hand caressing me through the skin of her stomach. A bit sappy and poetic, but it's the truth. With no sensation available to me but touch, it's kind of hard to explain.

I remembered existing, before actually existing. Freaky, huh?

My childhood wasn't normal, but neither was it exciting. Mother and father knew they had given life to a smart kid, but they hadn't realized the extent of just how smart I was until they came home one night to see me on the computer. Father asked me what I was doing, and my answer: "I was correcting your checkbook balance. You made several mistakes." I was only three and a half, so both of them laughed and went to see what type of mess was made in his folder.

After pointing out the differences and calling the bank to confirm the account total, they were completely stupefied. Sure, it had been the result of boredom and done on a whim, but it kicked off the advanced learning program my mother and father put me through.

Skipping over classes through the years with perfect grades, there was finally a challenge. I ended up in college, which is where we should truly begin. Most of my life, monotonous and tedious, had been a boring passage of time. Already knowing everything, I learned new things quickly. There are many different things I've excelled in. Given the upper hand to be successful no matter the direction I went professionally, I never seriously thought it through.

There was only one bad area for me. I, to this day, do not have the talent for art. My calligraphy is perfect, and computer graphics are spot on. Stick figures are highly popular with my hands, as well as stick animals. It makes me both irritated and amazed that Ichigo can draw the most amazing pictures; irritated because I still haven't figured out why the hell I can't do it, too (hello, genius!); amazed because he has huge talent. With a few simple words of description, he can draw an almost exact replica of the image in your head.

In fact, it wasn't until my introduction to Ichigo that I decided what career to major in. Psychology. Not for what most people think is the reason. I don't want to be a shrink, with some zit-faced teenager cutting himself because daddy touches him in dirty places, or a fiance thinking the combination of Coke and pop rocks counts as a suicide attempt.

I wanted a homicidal mind, almost as prodigal as me. It would fascinate me to know of someone out there who could give me a run for my brain. The mass multimedia industry would label him as a "Hannibal." I didn't want to waste my time on drooling vegetables, or Superman fetishes, or people obsessed with raping little boys because their hot little holes and loud cries milk their need.

Whoa, that was too descriptive. Sorry folks, I digress; a terrible habit I'm having no luck in curbing. College life. I chose Karakura University because it wasn't a popular school, much to my surprise. Their entrance exams are harder than a lot of others, and success rate just as good. They had a schedule that worked with my martial arts classes. I'm a black belt in karate and doing no less than perfect in kendo, but expanding to judo or tae kwan do does sound appealing.

Because of my small size, I was picked on, a lot, in primary and high school. The 'rents put me up for karate, and now I am a seasoned fighter and head of the kendo club. Kendo was mainly for tradition. My father has the family sword, Hyorinmaru, hanging in his office at the mansion. So not only were the kids out-smarted, they were out-punched. I didn't care, though. They were the ones picking the fights. Lack of discipline and training lead to their downfall, not mention their pride and arrogance.

Ichigo was the same, at first. There were several instances where a beat-down was necessary. I could have sworn he actually liked all those beatings. Do you know what his very first words to me were? "There is no way I'm sharing a room with an obnoxious short-shit with a god complex." Ignoring the "obnoxious" and finding a compliment as god, I couldn't turn a deaf ear to that short comment. I hate it when people pointlessly dangle it over my head.

Being hot didn't excuse him from being a moron. So I punched him. I slammed my fist into his cheek and told him that if he ever called me short again, I would rip off his dick and shove it so far up his ass, he would have problems standing straight for a week. And then I would ask his hunched-over, fallen ego how the air felt down at this level. He tried to pass it off as just joke, but then I informed him that I never joke about my height. He responded with "hot-headed prick," to which I shrugged.

After that initial cause and effect argument, we got along pretty well. We're roommates, but not friends. We talk on occasion, but he has his own clique of friends. I have schoolmates, but that's it. No friends. Everyone my own age are too dumb. But everyone here at the college thinks I'm too young. It's a pain in the ass.

For several months, it's like this. I learned Ichigo was hot, popular, and annoyingly smug when he finds out about my stick people and animals.

"So there's something even His Highness can't do?" He inserted a double meaning into that insult, the smirk on his face proves it. That counts as the second bruise I've given his face, reminding him of the first, and he was quick to apologized. Tch, really...

I never interfered with his life, or vise-versa. We didn't even have any classes together, and saw each other only in our dorm room. But given time, things do change, and I find myself victim to that fate when Ichigo comes up to me after a shower. I stare, naturally, as he walked over to me somewhat seductively in just a towel, water still dripping down his bare chest, and his hands vigorously rubbing another towel into his hair.

"Oi, Toshiro."

"Hitsuga-"

"Yeah, whatever," he waved off my usual response. We aren't friends, but he always uses my first name! It bothers the hell out of me and he knows it, the bastard! "I have to go into town tomorrow." When people say they're going into town, they mean downtown because the college is on the near-west side of Karakura. Downtown is where all the shopping malls and major food places and karaoke bars are.

I glared. Why would I care where he's going? It's none of my business what he and his friends are up to. "Okay..."

Ichigo gave me a grin, one that had the ability to deflect my indifferent attitude. He's going to pull something on me. He always does. As much as I'd like to claim that I know him, he's still mysterious. He'd do something completely out of character or incredibly stupid just to try and prove a point. There were even surprising times when Ichigo acted more intelligent than his age, giving me only a peek of -dare I say it- true brain power... before covering it up and acting all brainless again. I know what he does. I see it. I just don't know why he does it, and that truly frustrates me. His complex behavior is another reason to take up psychology. I'm good at reading people, but not everyone.

"Well," he said, snapping me out of my mini-narration. "I have a few things to pick up, a few art supplies, a medical textbook and some clothes." He sits next to me one the couch, and I try to scowl at him when a drop of water land on the page of my book when he leans over. Failing to look menacing, I lean back.

"And why are you telling me this?"

His grin grew. "I want you to come along."

I blinked owlishly. He was asking me out? Wishful thinking would call it a date, but wasn't he straight and going out with of his female friends? Why ask me? I've never gone on an outing with him before. We've never been around each other outside of this dorm, and now he decides to "hangout"? Fate has thrown me into a confused, sadistic and humorless loop.

"Toshiro?"

His voice once again snaps me out of my thoughts. I only wish he would ask me out, open up to me, then make hot bunny sex about every night, after I punch him for not telling me sooner. Clearing my throat after choking on the curve ball that had been thrown my way, I closed my book and walked toward my bookshelf on the opposite side of the room. "Why can't you go with your friends?"

Hearing a sigh, I could see the scene in the back of my head, draped across the couch where I'd been sitting only moments ago, careless of where his towel fell. I learned very quickly that Ichigo was not shy and had no shame about being nude. "We're both males, so whatever" had been his explanation. But I'm still modest, so I keep my head turned toward the bookcase, pretending to scan for a new one.

"Orihime and Uryuu are both working, and Chad is helping his grandfather this weekend. And you already know Rukia and Renji are in New York for fashion week." Ah, yes. Rukia the designer and Renji the model were two other people I couldn't read very well. He never seemed like the model type to me, and the girl was just strange. "So that just leaves me, but I hate shopping by myself."

I snorted, knowing those weren't the only people close to him. "What about that Tatsuki girlfriend of yours? Or any other fangirl at that matter." I picked out a random book. I, Lucifer by Glenn Duncan. I pretended to read the back. Again, I had a faint image in my head when he grunted; pulling his nose up in disgust.

"When will all you people get it through your thick skulls that we're just friends?" He started throwing a fit on the couch and I sighed, rolled my eyes and picked out a different book.

"Because it's obvious she really likes you. Her and that Kuchiki girl."

"Hey, Rukia just wants to dress me up for some odd, inexplicable reason! I've known Tatsuki since childhood, dating her would be weird." I look up, lifting an eyebrow at him. I hadn't known that. Well, you learn something knew everyday. It was a mistake, though, looking in his direction. He lay on the couch, limbs splayed everywhere. An arm was thrown over his eyes, the other brushing the floor, one leg slung over the side of the couch, and the other resting on the back of it. His chest was now dry, but that didn't make it look any less tempting. And that towel was dangerously close to falling off his hips.

I looked back down at the book and willed my heart to stop beating a million miles a minute. "Well Kurosaki," -"Ichigo!"- you are quite popular. I'm sure you can find some other friends to go with you."

"If you are referring to Keigo or Mizuiro, I'll smack you."

"I doubt that. Kurosaki, I'm serious."

"So am I!" The intensity in those words had me looking at him, meeting a determined brown gaze staring unwaveringly into mine. Whatever his reasons, he was dead set on going out with me, and he wasn't going to take no for an answer.

"Why are you being so persistent? You're acting like a pestering child."

"Because whether you like it or not, you are one of my friends. And you are the only one available this weekend, so just shut up and says yes already. I don't see what your big deal is over this."

I have never, in my entire life, been so... flabbergasted as I was now. He just called me a friend. I couldn't really see when that sort of connection would've been made. I had gone out of my way to keep it sort of cold between us so I wouldn't be hurt in case he wasn't attracted to me. But somewhere in that happy-go-fucking-lucky head of his, we were; holding hands and frolicking in a field of flowers, singing some stupid, gay friend song with the birds, and painting rainbows in the background. Or maybe that's just my overactive imagination at the wheel, because I haven't had a single friend since primary school.

He takes my silence as an affirmative. "Great, tomorrow afternoon it is." And with that he gets up and walks back to the bathroom to continue his post-shower habits of shaving and brushing.

Damn him. Ichigo knew I hated when he took advantage of the rare occasions I was left stunned. In full strength and perfect guard, I could strip Ichigo mentally with the tidbits of information I've gathered since meeting him and have him squirming in embarrassment. The moment that guard falters even slightly, he manages to drag me into doing anything he wants, mostly something stupid. Damn him and that towel, which slid down, revealing a couple more inches of skin before he shuts the door. It distracted me long enough into silence for him to get his way.

I spent the rest of that evening in a daze, his words running through my head. So, he thought we were friends. Were we close enough for friends? Hell, I doubt he even knows my favorite color. I had to keep in mind that Ichigo is a total idiot, so I wrote it off as him being his usual dorky self. I never say such things so casually, yet he just told me as easily as if he were describing the weather. We've grown an amicably tolerable understanding during our few months together, so the question to ask would be if I would want to acknowledge a friendship between us.

Yes.

True, the wet dreams of our hot bunny sex were nothing but the usual teenage hormones setting in, but that didn't make my decision any harder. I would like to, one day, feel the sexual experience of my roommate, since I was still technically a virgin. "Technically" because I've only once given a blow-job. I'm determined to at least figure out what Ichigo would like. Definitely a dominant type, would he go for the adorable submissive type, or a vigorous lover that's into kink?

Part of me wanted to dig deeper into Ichigo's interests than my modesty would allow. I wanted to get to know him mentally, socially, physically... sexually,. not the surface stuff like favorite things or birthdays. Having a friend scared me a bit because I was so unused to those kinds of bonds, but Ichigo might be a good choice for me.

So that is where I found myself, here in the mall, waiting for Ichigo to get out of the bathroom before we begin shopping. The idiot "forgot to go before we left." How does one do that, anyway? If you need to go, then you shouldn't let anything distract you. Was he really that eager to spend time with me? I shouldn't ask that. Ichigo is always so cheerful and giddy when he's out shopping, no matter who he goes with.

I don't shop if I don't have to. Being constantly mistaken for a kid irritates and frustrates me to no end, even though it's legally correct. Armed with more smarts than most adults, let alone kids, is a curse. I often have to show my university identification just to get certain books, and sometimes that doesn't even work. It's annoying. Never really considering myself a vindictive person, my aggravation thought that was subject to change.

I check my watch for the millionth time, getting impatient. I've already analyzed various people's conversations -eavesdropping is a bad habit, but boredom makes you open to doing almost anything to entertain yourself. I critiqued a few outfits, but monotony was the overbearing popularity. I tipped my hat to a group of cos-players near the escalators for their bold, darker fashion, they seemed to be the only different people here. Otherwise, about ninety percent of topics of discussed were ranged from homework, to complaining about parents, to having parties.

Standing and fidgeting in a corner for too long and wondering what the hell Ichigo ate for him to be taking forever to squeeze out, I look around to try and find something that would entertain me until he was finished. I was sick of being asked by various security guards if I'd lost my mommy and needed help finding my way around. It was kind of funny the first two times, then it became repetitive and they were all told to fuck off. Surprisingly it worked, and I was left alone.

Seeing a television in an electronics store window, I walked over to see what was on. I think I managed to see another guard -a familiar one- give me an evil eye in my peripheral vision, but I paid him no attention. The news was just coming on, so I shifted my stance and crossed my arms, ready to see what was going on. I normally didn't watch the news, but it would look less suspicious to keep up to speed on everything through other means than the internet. Yes, my name is Hitsugaya Toshiro, and I am an internet addiction. It has been only three hours since the last time I was on the computer, and I'm already feeling the cybernetic withdrawals. The craving is all too familiarly gnawing at my fingers to hop on again. I hope to make it out of this mall alive and all fingers intact, before the gnawing gives way to severe eye twitching, pretzel-like body squirming, even worse irritability and nail-biting.

It was usual news, nothing interesting like he'd hoped for; the war in the middle east, drug trafficking problems, the economy, an abandoned, haunted beauty parlor rumored to have involvement with a disappearing persons case and its newest victim, the weather, etcetera, etcetera.

It was old news, the same thing twisted with different words to make the same stories. I already have my opinions about those subjects. The war was justifiable, but stupidly drawn out because Osama Bin Laden was nowhere to be found. Stopping a large drug operation is different than stopping drugs altogether. No matter where you go, there will always be drug issues. To think about stopping it for good is pointless, and sad. A house being haunted is a viewpoint I could understand, but a beauty parlor...? Odd, but not enough to go internet-mad over.

I've never believed in the supernatural as a kid. Mother and father would often take turns trying to tell me a scary story, or watch a horror movie. Being the analytical prodigy I am, instead of getting scared, I asked why the victims would be so stupid to call out "who's there" and do nothing but scream and crawl in a corner and wait to be murdered, or why they always got the blood spatter wrong. In return, my parents would laugh nervously and be amazed how I wasn't terrified. I think my father was scared, but my mother was just grossed out.

So, what changed my mind? It certainly wasn't a ghost. My encounter with the abnormal was tangible, right before I moved into my dorm. I was still living in the main mansion, and decided to take the summer to relax before going to college. It felt good being lazy, but that feeling only lasted a week. I needed something to keep my focus. Maybe a job to earn myself some extra money, even though I got a large allowance from my parents. It was a beautiful day out, so I opted to walk into town. I'm not allowed to drive, the horses were at the masseuse, and his bike was at a repair shop after he'd taken it out on a particularly rough run in the back woods.

Our mansion is on the outskirts of a rich neighborhood, nestled among any other mansions. The other kids there weren't sufficient companions for my age and mentality, but it didn't matter. I was fine by myself. I wasn't of eligible age to get a job, either, but I wondered if I could charm my way through an interview, just to see if I'd succeed. Either that or go hack something on the computer. I'm very good with that. Last time I did that, I ended up hacking a bank in New York City, and shutting it down. That was a trial and error thing, a big "oops" while looking through their website. I was about ten when I did that. My suspension was almost up, and I didn't want to add on any more years.

I didn't leave for town until later in the day, it was nearly sunset, and the road had many twists and turns. So, you can imagine my surprise when I, only half paying attention to my surroundings, turned the corner to find a stray dog lying in the middle of the pavement. It looked like your run-of-the-mill mutt; medium in size, shaggy hair and big brown eyes. The poor thing looked like it was hit by a car, very recently, too, since it was still bleeding.

I was stunned when it turned its head my way. It was still alive. I remember running over to it and checking its injuries. Blood oozed from the fresh, gaping wound. There were a few things from the medical journals kept in my father's study for emergencies, since we lived nowhere near a doctor. Remembering a few of the books, I thought maybe there was something I could do to help it.

I took him home. I didn't have to worry about my parents, they were away to oversee the expansion of their company in North America, having just left a couple days ago. The only people there were the cook and butler and one maid. The gardener was on vacation and the book keeper in the hospital because of a sprained back, leaving almost everything to either me or the butler. They were used to me helping out, since I'm legendary for never having anything to do.

In my father's study, I read the journals and did my best to clean and wrap his injuries. Wrapped in numerous bandages from head to toe, he looked more like an embalmed mummy than a dog. With food, water and a warm place to stay, I couldn't help but feel a little sad. I don't recall ever owning a dog. It was certainly something to look into when I graduated college.

Here is when the freaky things start happening, the very next morning. Staying by the dog's side all night, my father's leather couch substituted as my bed, along with the spare duvet he kept in the closet. Like father, like son. Upon waking, I came face-to-face with an energetic dog wagging his tail, no doubt happy to see his rescuer. Looking over to see the food and water gone, I assumed he was feeling much better, so the wounds only looked worse than what they actually were.

Now, his leg was really severe, and I expected it to still bleed, that it wasn't going to heal in just a few hours. But then I took the time to look him over, and none of the injuries didn't seem to heal, clot or scab at all. His wounds were still bleeding as openly as they were when I'd wrapped him up. The bandages I took off him were soaked through, and the pile of sheets I'd put him on were soaked with blood, as if the water flushed out his entire blood supply.

I offered him my hand, wondering just what the hell happened and why the blood hadn't started clotting at least a little bit. I scratched his nose, thinking. It could be infected. In that case, I would have to take him to a vet. Infections were beyond my capability. The dog could be anemic, but then he would have bled himself out during the night. Many questions ran through my head, and I didn't even know how deep I was into my thoughts until a sharp pain brought me out. Looking down at the source confused me. The dog just bit my hand.

I snapped it away to inspect it. It did break the skin, but it wasn't deep. Shit, I have to take a trip to the hospital for a rabies shot. He didn't foam at the mouth or anything, but it was better to be safe than dead. I look a the dog, who was doing nothing but staring at me. It was kind of creepy. What did he want? Did I hurt him somehow? Did I do something wrong? I didn't see any new wounds on his face. It whined, stretching its head to my hand. I let him. I probably did something he didn't like, and he was just defending himself.

He lapped at my wound, most likely in apology. It hurt and I was unable to suppress a wince. Pain shot through my hand, but I tried my best to endure it. That's when I saw it happening. Morbid fascination took a choke hold on my throat, stopping my breath as I watched the mutt's blood melt away. Muscle repaired itself, skin grew closed and unblemished, followed by long, sandy hair. Not a single patch of him was healed when I woke up this morning. I haven't even moved from the couch, and I just saw several weeks' worth of healing in twenty seconds.

As soon as the spectacle was over, the dog's tongue retreated from my hand. The pain was still there, but less so, and I forced myself to take a deep breath. The dog went around the room, sniffing out everything, while I sat there in complete stupefaction. What was going on? At first I thought the dog that had the fast recovery, but he didn't start healing until he lapped up my blood. Then, was something wrong with me?

Freaked out, I kept an eye on the dog. Watching him would be almost comical if it weren't for the seriousness of the situation. Some unheard command led him to sit by the door, and to stare at me. He wanted out of this room. Trying to get my wits about me and still keep calm, I stand and let him out the door. He rushes past me, only to wait at the front door. He most likely had to do business outside. Making sure the butler, or maid wasn't around, I went over and let him out. He didn't zip past me and run off like I'd expected him to. Instead, he walked a good few feet away, and sat again, waiting for me. Feeling a little calmer for the first time this morning and wondering just where he intended to lead me, I followed.

Turns out it was just a house, about four miles down the road. He sat and waited for me at the gate. I asked if this was his home, and he let out a happy bark, which I took as affirmation. Not questioning how the hell he understood what I was saying, I opened the gate and let him through. No one seemed to be home. They must have been out for the day and would be back soon. I'm sure they're wondering about their dog.

I followed him around to the back, passing a pretty garden and patio set along the way. At the very edge of the yard, where trimmed green met the rough, there was a quaint little dog house, with the name of "Fido" over the door. I grinned at the classic name, and the dog who looked very much like a Fido. But he wasn't heading that way. Instead, it turned and I followed him to what looked like a grave marker. I don't know why, but I didn't want to look at it.

I didn't want to go anywhere near it. Something in my heart knew and told me that I would cry if I did. I wish I hadn't, but the dog was waiting for me. He was sitting and staring and waiting for me. The words on the grave marker would no longer allow me to hold back the tears. "Fido, beloved dog to the Masaki family. 1997-2008 "

I looked down at Fido when he licked my face. I asked him if this was him, and he just looked at it, and then back at me. This had to be him. It would explain a few things. The grave was disturbed. There were no cars in sight on the road the day I found him. The miraculous way his body healed with my blood made him... some sort of zombie-like thing, right? At least, as far as I gathered from various multimedia sources. But he looked and acted normal, so Hollywood must be doing something wrong.

I asked Fido if he wanted to go back to sleep, but I just got more licking. Seriously, I'm talking to a dog? Trying one more time to get a better sort of response out of him, I asked him what he wanted me for, why he got up only to lay in the middle of the road. Fido gave me a strange reaction. It seemed it knew what I was talking about, and now he gave me an even stranger answer. He pointed his nose straight to my chest.

"My heart woke you up?" He whined and pointed to my chest again. I immediately understood what he meant. Somehow, it's as if I could feel his emotions and thoughts directly pushing into my head. "My loneliness woke you up...?" The dog barked happily, and I couldn't help but give him a rueful smile. Man's best friend wanted to offer me comfort because I was so unlucky to find it in humans. The dead dog, just for a moment, wanted to offer me some sort of companionship, to make me care for something in this world other than my family. To have a friend.

In short, he paid me a social call. But for me, it also gave me a wake up call. Hello, Toshiro, time to smell the bacon. I hate bacon, but that's how the saying goes. The desire to get a dog intensified. There was absolutely no way I was going to spend post-college life without one. And if I would've befriended the Masaki family, then I would've befriended this dog. I could have had more than a day with Fido, a sweet, adorable dog. Then possibly, he wouldn't be dead.

Fido disappeared into the house through the back entrance's dog door, only to return moments later. He nudged something in my direction. It was salt. Satisfied that I had received my gift, he went to sit on top of his grave. I blinked, the situation and what he wanted me to do took a moment to sink in. What do I do? What do I say? Looking again to Fido, he just sat there complacently, relaxed and waiting for me to put him back to his eternal sleep. Shrugging to myself, I decided to try to do what came to mind.

Pouring salt into my hand, I sprinkled it around him in a rough circle. Then a little on Fido's head, just to tease him a little. It made him sneeze, and I let the giggle out freely, despite the unhappy setting. It didn't seem right not to say anything, but like everything else I was doing, I didn't know what to really say. Perhaps I'll start with a wish and end in a farewell. "I wish you a good night's sleep. I'm sorry I disturbed you. It was nice meeting you. Good-bye."

After that, he sunk back into the ground, giving out one last happy yap. I stayed there a lot longer than I should have, until I couldn't feel my legs, gazing at his headstone. I just wanted to go back home, sit on my bed and stare. I did exactly that. All of the servants tried talking to me, tried to figure out what was wrong with the young master. I didn't care. I wanted to be left alone, so I ignored them, instead focusing my unfocused gaze on the dark scenery outside my bedroom window.

That was my first real encounter with the supernatural. And ever to this day, I keep encountering animals, whether they're recent roadkill, or long-dead family pets. I always keep a stash of salt on a random pocket in case one came up. Of course, Ichigo doesn't know this. It would be insane to tell him something like that. We weren't even friends-

Oh, wait, I did say I was going to try to be his friend. But something like this was just too personal, and way too odd to tell anyone. My own parents don't even know, not that it surprises me. Now that I can fend somewhat for myself, they've been going away on trips more often, for work or vacation. Not that they don't love me, or I them. They're very busy, I understand. Besides, they wouldn't believe anything like this.

"Here is the latest kidnapping victim. Touno Midori, born May fifth, ten years old. She was a student at Karakura Elementary School."

"Oh, her parents must be so worried, Makoto..."

"Hai, Tetsuya. And the police still haven't found the perpetrator. If anyone has any information about these victims, please contact..."

I tuned them out. News people are like puppets. they can act sad at the appropriate time, and then bounce back to cheerfulness on a lighter subject just after. Like changing lines on a switchboard. It made me sick. I can't listen to them anymore. It brought back my memories, and sunk my bad mood further down into my stomach where it settled uncomfortably. And where the hell was Kurosaki?

"That's so sad..."

A recognizable voice said from behind me. It wasn't Kurosaki's, though. I knew his voice. It wasn't that high or soft. He didn't wear his emotions out on his sleeve, choosing to scowl and bluntly state what he was thinking, but he never would have said something like that. His response would've probably been something around wondering what sort of shit people were thinking of and what the world was coming to when those kids went missing.

This voice, I haven't heard it since I was a child, since primary school. She was the voice of reason, and the only one who was nice to me. She hung out with me, even though her friends called me a freak for having unnatural hair and eyes. She spent time eating watermelons with me during the time her family visited. We watched sunsets and pondered what dreams we wanted to accomplish. I know that voice. I turned around, frightened tat I might be wrong, but thrilled if I were correct. There stood my old childhood friend. Momo Hinamori.

She gave a small smile. "It's been so long, hasn't it Shiro-chan."

Instant reflex kicked in with that nickname. I would so punch Ichigo if he was here, because I can just imagine him with a large grin already plotting to use it. "It's Toshiro, bed-wetter Momo!"

She giggled, a light blush dusting her cheeks. "I don't do that anymore. Grandma would scold you for that." Ah, our Grandmother. She was old and wrinkly, and loved the summers when Momo and I came out to spend time with her. A bit on the odd side, but she was always young at heart and took real good care of us. It all came to a stop, though, when she froze to death one winter's night. That was the last time I saw Momo, crying her eyes out and asking me who we were going to spend our summers with. Her parents simply pulled her away after a time, and that was it.

It's good to see her smiling face again, taking part in everyday life and moving on. I was glad that the past hadn't tripped her up into something akin to me. I gave her a smile of my own. Again, if Kurosaki were here, I would hit him. He'd never stop dangling all these uncharacteristic facial expressions in front of me.

"Momo..." I did the first think that came to mind when thinking of her. I've been wanting to do it even more recently because of all the flashbacks. She was not just my cousin, but my best friend, witty banter included. I wrap my arms securely around her waist and shoulder, settling my chin on her other shoulder. "It's good to see you again..."

She patted my back, reciprocating the hug and letting me have this moment until I was able to pull myself back. "You okay?"

I chuckled and waved it off. "I was in dire need of one of those..."

She scrunched up her nose. "Don't tell me you became one of those emo, loner types that feels only self pain and thinks about suicide."

I scrunched my nose up as well. I hated those kinds of people. I do not think about suicide. "You're wrong," I said, crossing my arms. "I turned into a genius loner that has a god complex."

She snorted. "What are you talking about? You've always been like that."

"Then I guess I haven't changed..."

"I guess not."

"But you've changed, Momo. For the better, it looks. That's some outfit." It was unusual. Normally, as kids, she would wear sun dresses and pretty blouses. She now wore a modern, almost Gothic, Hello Kitty outfit. The change is a bit odd.

She gave me another smile. "I love Hello Kitty stuff! You know that. But my style is a little different now from when you last saw me... It isn't bad, is it?"

I waved it off, not wanting to insult her or anything. And in all truth, she didn't look that bad in it. "It's just different, is all."

She nodded, checking her watch. Out of habit, I checked mine, too. I didn't know whether to be relieved or worried that Ichigo wasn't out of the bathroom. I'm going to have to go see if he's fallen in and flushed away. Then again, I highly doubt that would happen. He would easily clog the poor toilet.

"Oh no, I'm late!" I turn my head from where it had discretely drifted toward the bathroom doors. "Wow, I really have to get going! Oh, he's going to be mad for sure!"

I lifted an eyebrow, not expecting that one. "He? Bed-wetter Momo has a certain someone...?"

She blushed while searching her bag for something. "Sh-shut up!" She was so cute when flustered. "Anyway, here is my phone number!" She scrawled it over a piece of random paper in her bag and handed it to him. "Please, let's go out to eat or something and get caught up! Okay?"

I nodded, taking the number and putting it into my back pocket. I had left my phone at home to charge. I was given one last hug in haste and she turned around, running as she was waving back to me. "See ya around!" She turned the corner, disappearing from my sight right as Ichigo was walking up to me. Talk about a close call...

It's not that I'm ashamed of Hinamori. Rather, it's like I'm still trying to get use to the idea that I was trying to be friends with Ichigo. I was not ready to introduce him to Momo. She's too important. I know he wouldn't hurt her or anything, but that event, for some reason, made me very nervous. And I really wanted to put off his teasing of my nickname for as long as possible.

"Man, how many people does it take to open a locked door I swear those retards are-" I wasn't listening. My eyes were still on the place where Hinamori disappeared to. I was in a happy mood, now that I got to see my friend, but something else was pressing at my chest... and my heart.

"Oi! Toshiro?"

Breaking myself away from my thoughts, and shrugging it off as nothing, I glared at Kurosaki for the use of my given name. "It's-"

"Toshiro. Because we're friends, remember? Anyway, let's go! I want to get some new copic markers and-" I rolled my eyes. What a chatterbox. I tuned him out, again thinking of my friend's short visit. Her style and demeanor had changed. She was more confident, a little bolder. She was strong and vibrant. I wondered what happened to her, or better yet who happened to her.

That conversation was the untitled preface to a long, bloody, life-changing story; the one I'm telling you right now. So listen good. There are many things out there I did not understand, things and beings beyond my comprehension. And unbeknown to me, Hinamori Momo was one of them.

Edit: Yay! =3 Revision finished! I hope everyone likes the small changes I made and the better spelling and grammar. I know I do. XD 


	3. 3

In the Middle of the Night Arc Untitled Preface: Chapter: 2/?

The walk back home was somewhat more tolerable than the actual shopping. Ichigo was rambling on about idiot, nonsensical things like he usually does, and I remained silent and pretending to hear; small talk never holds my attention for long. It was nearing sunset, past the point I'd hoped to avoid for staying out. I don't know why, but the power of death is stronger at night. Most of my encounters with dead things start to happen around this time. Perhaps it is the moon that drives them out, or maybe it's some sort of metaphysical shit I have no clue in understanding. All I wanted, was to get back to the dorms as soon as possible.

"Oh! Toshiro, ice cream! I'll go get us some!"

Never mind the fact that he didn't even give me a chance to scold him for my name, or even ask what flavor I wanted, or if I wanted ice cream at all, but the silence was well-received and well-timed. While Ichigo walked briskly toward the plump vendor dressed in a splotchy apron, I shifted to comfortably lean against a tree, already hypothesizing several ways to lecture Ichigo about his capricious and impetuous tendencies.

I didn't want to say as much, but I would rather not linger here. A thought crossed my mind to just leave him and continue walking on my own, but then Ichigo would be whining for the next three days about how cold I was being to him. I don't mind that, I could easily tune out his childish tantrums. His irritating voice is nothing but background noise and static. Every now and then, a little voice would pop out of nowhere and change my mind, tell me to stop and to put up with Ichigo for once, that maybe not everything he did was stupid or without reason. Try hard as I might, it was unfathomable, but I find myself going along with it.

I couldn't have been there for any longer than a couple of minutes before a small mewling sound came from my feet. A solid gray cat weaved about my ankles, rubbing against my legs for attention like any normal, domesticated feline would. But while cats usually left behind fur, this one left behind blood, staining the cuff of my jeans. A dead animal, this one somewhat more affectionate than many others I've encountered. I didn't question it. I knew I had somehow attracted the broken thing with that troublesome power of mine, so I had to take on the responsibility of helping it if I wanted to be left alone. I would be approached by several animals at a time each night, which would hopefully not be the case tonight regarding my present company.

I made sure Ichigo was still at the vendor's cart, humming and hawing over the choices, before I let myself slip behind the tree and out of his direct line of sight. I don't need Ichigo to vividly imagine nutcase scenarios because a bloody cat suddenly finds me his new best buddy. Hopefully this will blow over quickly and we can get back to our dorm without any other interruptions.

Picking a needle from my pocket, I poked my finger just hard enough to draw a few drops of blood. As soon as my blood entered the small animal's system, I retained its thoughts and feelings. There was no sadness or pain; it had died instantly, but there was a bit of regret. I had an image of a man wearing my school uniform; dark shaggy hair, tan skin and very tall. Ichigo's friend, Chad. It wanted me to find him and to give him his collar. Perplexed with the request as I was, I didn't ask. It must have meant something important between the two.

Securing the collar to my ankle and making sure it wouldn't be falling off anytime soon, I dig my hand into the back of my jeans to retrieve a packet of salt. Purring, it lead me further into the woods until it stopped at a nearby tree, indiscernible from the rest. The ground near its base was upturned from where the cat clawed itself out. The grave was unmarked, but at least someone gave enough of a damn to bother with burying him at all.

The cat waited for him on his mound of disturbed dirt, waves of calm and satisfaction pulsing the air around what he came here to do, he no longer needed my power to keep him alive. I tipped over the ripped opening, feeling the pristine white grains pour into my hand. The silence in the woods was loud and uneasy, so I looked around to make sure one more time that I was alone. I didn't want someone thinking I was debilitated by some sort of psychotropic, black-market drug.

The collar jingled slightly with my movements, and I lifted my cuff to glanced down at the tags. "Hamlet" was engraved in the red, metal heart. How uncanny, doomed to death by its namesake. My heart aches, but there is nothing more I can do with the already deceased, and with that I sprinkle the slat around grave and corpse.

"Earth-bound, sleep peacefully forever." It's a bit cheesy, but I've found that nothing happens if I don't say anything, and I couldn't think of anything but a variation of those words. Hopefully, since I do this enough, I could eventually do it without saying anything at all. Incantations of any sort always seemed so... passe to me. One would think just the magic ability would do the trick.

The ground started swallowing Hamlet up like quicksand. He let out one more mewl before his head sank below the surface and the dirt solidified. He was gone, and I was free to leave. There were no other animals following me on my way back. Taking that as a good sign, I let the tension in my body relax slightly. Perhaps it wouldn't be as bad as my overactive imagination thinks. I blame Ichigo for this.

I wonder if he managed to get a descent flavor. Coffee ice cream always held my taste buds captive. Then again, that would probably be due to the fact that I love coffee in general. Ichigo strikes me as a chocolate, strawberry, or caramel kind of flavor.

Reaching the tree that had acted as my body prop, my eyes automatically search out Ichigo. I didn't get a chance to get comfortable again, as he was on his way back from the vendor, holding two cones. I admit to curiosity. I see a scoop swirled with red and a scoop swirled with a toffee color. Grinning like the idiot I always claim him to be, he handed me the toffee one. Still somewhat hesitant, I took it, watching him gaily lick his as he passed by me. I smelled strawberries.

We strolled toward a bench before I took a tentative lick. Tart yet sweet, with a strong vanilla bean aftertaste, and I could feel the caffeine and sugar start to run through my body. Ichigo delivered me a vanilla/coffee ice cream cone. I've fallen for him even more, a hard thing for me to say considering how hot I am for him already. How did he manage to pick this? Better yet, how did the vendor even have this flavor? Hardly anyone had it, and I usually got my dose at Starbucks, and only if it's the flavor of the month. People could probably buy out McDonald's for the price I spend on this sinful indulgence of mine, but it doesn't really matter when you're rich.

Ichigo doesn't know it, but I've been reduced to a giddy child. Here we are, on a park bench, eating ice cream after a long day of shopping, and with my favorite flavor! I almost feel like swinging my legs and humming a happy tune. Definitely child behavior, and most certainly Ichigo's fault. I had a few theories about some sort of conspiracy going on.

If Ichigo had any conspiracies going, he didn't look it. He was too busy lapping at his ice cream, which has almost reached the rim of the cone by now. I watched as he gathered the frosty treat at the tip of his tongue, waiting for it to melt completely in his mouth before letting it slide down his his throat, his Adam's apple bobbing. He then brought the cone to his lips and nibbled at the edge, breaking away a layer of cone before continuing the cycle all over again.

Fascinating.

I looked away, trying to pin my gaze on anything but Ichigo's sexy consumption of his cone. It came to a metal waste receptacle filled with newspapers, various wrappers, and a banana peel. I focused on that while I finish my cone. My hormones have been a little indulgent lately, I should find some time to meditate them into submission. It's not like I can find a book on how to repress lust, but what comes with martial arts and kendo is patience, control, and I find I can use that every day for the simplest things. Since I share a room with Ichigo, I should have developed some sort of natural resistance to his charm. Nope. I know he's not consciously doing it, but that doesn't mean I've got flawless defenses.

I wasn't certain how long my gaze was fixed on the trash can, long enough to notice wild mushrooms growing at its base. I noticed that the sky was getting even darker. It had to be nearing bed time, I was in major need of sleep. And if it was too late for sleep, the internet was calling. It's not uncommon for me to stay awake a night or two in a row. As long as I had entertainment, food and the internet, I could go a lot longer.

The paper napkin wrapped around the base of my cone served its purpose, and I crumpled it as I started for the trashcan. The fun ends here. I want to go home pronto, regardless if Ichigo is ready or not. And if that means I have to endure a few days of him being more annoying than usual, then I can tolerate it. It would be a small price to pay if I could keep my secret for a little while longer. I'm aware that, if I ever wanted to pursue a relationship, then I would eventually have to tell him about it, but I'd rather that be later than sooner. I still have to live with the guy for the duration of my college education. I'd rather not have him be upset at me, then uncomfortable when around me, and I certainly wouldn't want any one else to know about what I can do.

That statement wasn't fair to Ichigo. As much as he comes off a total jerk-ass with an easy temper, he's quite considerate. Even if he rejected me, he wouldn't tattle to his friends about it. I wish I could say the same for his friends, but I don't know them well enough. Ichigo is a very likable guy, but his friends are carefully picked. This is something I've observed on my own. There are some people he just can't stand. He'll be polite enough, unless you poke his buttons. I smirked. I've poked a few of them, but somehow he still wanted to be my friend. I'll have to ask him about that sometime.

Tossing the napkin in the bin for a two-pointer, I turn just in time to see Ichigo stand, brushing off his deep, purple shirt of any crumbs from the cone, and make his way towards the same bin I was standing by. I was careful to keep a casual, yet indifferent mask over my face. Nothing is wrong, everything is fine. I don't have a hard on from watching him eat ice cream. I will not encounter anymore animals tonight. Ichigo will not think of me as a freak. We will get home quickly.

"Ready to go, Toshiro?" I was so relieved he didn't sense my awkwardness, I didn't care about the use of my name. Instead, I nodded to him, way more than ready to get out of here and to the safety of the school dorms where I could crawl into my covers, or a corner, to heal my poor, internet-deprived mind. I stepped up my speed to walk alongside my roommate, careful to keep my eyes focused straight ahead, and not on Ichigo's leather-clad lower half.

He likes to dress up when he's allowed. His natural orange hair gets him into enough trouble, but when he isn't trying to be a good student, he likes dressing up in the most... sexy outfits. And I mean sexy. one evening I came in from a late kendo practice and he was draped over the couch, in knee-high boots, vinyl pants and a silk shirt texting Orihime as he was getting ready to walk out to door. Now that I think about it, he could be categorized as slightly gothic. Not enough to be one of those dressed-up cos-players you see sitting around in the malls and parks, but enough to be out of my comfort zone. I don't really have a fashion sense. I like things easy; jeans, polo, boots, and a necklace or chain wrapped around me somewhere. It isn't that I don't appreciate Ichigo's clothes, he looks really hot in them, but it wasn't my style.

That Rukia girl is the same way, though her tastes cross over to the more... Lolita side of fashion. She's obsessed with ribbons, lace, ruffles and frills. She's away in New York right now, but I have to wonder... Is the west side of the hemisphere ready for that kind of thing? I remember overhearing a conversation she had with Ichigo over this exact thought. I don't know what avant-garde is, but it must be something like it from what I understood.

I looked beside me, in hopes to catch him distracted so I could take my time to look at him. He's been pretty quiet for a while, so I was hopeful. No such luck. Or should I say, no such Ichigo. The space beside me was empty. Was I so far in my head that I stopped walking? A glance ahead of me declined that proposal. Did I take a wrong turn somewhere? That had never happened before. It's rare that I would find my way lost in a small city such as Karakura, practically unheard of. And if I was going in the wrong direction, Ichigo would've pestered me, loudly, as to where I was going. Was that thunder in the distance?

Deciding to just find out where I lost myself and why my dumb roommate hadn't said anything, I turned to retrace my steps. I gasped as I bumped into Ichigo's chest. Damn, what did he eat to become that muscular, metal? I took my time rubbing the pain out of my forehead, silently cursing his very existence. Boy, was I going to let him have it! Big lugs like him shouldn't loom over short people like that!

He grasped my wrist, pulling it away from my face. "Are you alright?" I glared up at him. I just face-planted and squished my nose into the hard, vast plain of his front. Of course I wasn't alright. He managed to look a little sheepish as he scratched the back of his head. "Er... Sorry about that. I was.. thinking."

This gave me surprise. He was contemplating something serious enough to completely let his senses forget where he was? I knew everyone had their own inner demons, but Ichigo must have something really important going through his head if he forgot I was his company. Usually, and I come to this conclusion often enough, I notice that when we're together, he takes care to pay me extra attention, as if he hadn't seen me in a week when it was really just the other night. It results in distracting me from my precious internet all too often.

I turned my head away, fighting a blush. He was looking at me with those beautiful, brown, bedroom eyes that have my heart set aflutter. "Yeah, well just watch where you walk. Wouldn't want you to get beat up and ruin that drawing talent of yours, would we? Though my nose does hurt a bit."

Ichigo laughed, his voice rumbling over my skin. That is when I realize his hand still clasped my arm. My fight with the blush just got harder. "I'm sorry. Did you want me to kiss it and make it better? I'm a nurse, I have special healing powers."

I snorted. Wouldn't it be weird if that were true? It would be a real oxymoron if someone with the power of the dead and the power of life actually had a relationship. But for a brief nanosecond, I considered that thought. I thought of how many people there were in the world, and then why I was stuck with this power of mine. If it just chose me, randomly, then it could have happened to others. The only other way I could think of getting this power was through genetics, and I grew up without any of this magic happening to me, so that was negated. There was only one mentally unsound person in my family, and he was too sick to be put in a mental ward. I overheard my parents talking about him once, but they never said anything about it to me directly. Apparently everyone thought the reason for his insanity was his illness, and so they just left it at that.

"I think I'll live. I'm not that desperate." I was happy that my voice managed to achieve amused nonchalance, and started to tug my arm out of his. I wouldn't mind if we held hands a little while long, but to Ichigo's perceptions, that would be out of character for me. "Is there a reason you're holding onto my wrist so tightly, Kurosaki? I think my hand is going numb."

He lost to his own blush and let me go. "Sorry." Why was he apologizing so much lately? Normally he would be like "oh, right, my bad," or even worse "but it's such a sexy arm" just to tease me and get away with it. He gets away with more than I should allow. I'm aware he likes to flirt, boy or girl, it doesn't matter. I cannot, though, decipher if he really means it or if he's just playing.

After letting my arms slowly drop to my side, I carefully scrutinize the contours of his face. I get the feeling he's a good actor. He's sorry, but I ponder if it was because he was holding me, or because he noticed his own weird behavior. I haven't told him a thing, and already we're having a cumbersome conversation. Maybe we just need to take a moment away from the other. We've never spent the entire day together, and it's already grating on our nerves. Things seemed to get progressively tense the longer we talked, and shaky thoughts give way to awkward pauses.

I wanted to ask him what was wrong, tell him to talk to me unless he wanted it beaten out of him. That night is when I really wanted him to stop everything; the games, flirting, arguments, and just tell me what he really thought! I wanted him to open up to me and give me a taste of that intelligence I know is there somewhere, and in exchange tell him what I thought, what I know, and what I feel.

Too bad we never got the chance.

I could physically see the light in his eyes die, his face was overcome with cold indifference, the detachment of emotion severing anything remotely looking like Ichigo's normal expression. My senses were telling me he was unrecognizable. There was something wrong. My roommate was still in that same, 17-year-old body, but that was not the face I knew. What was taking over his motor functions? Ichigo wasn't unconscious, I could feel that for sure. It was like... someone controlling a ghost train with a remote control. The engine was running, the lights were on, but the passengers were all asleep. All I could see was a robot, a blank slate, and that scared the absolute shit out of me.

Ichigo's body snatcher reached out a hand and I took an involuntary step away form him. I hesitated in talking to him, thinking he wouldn't be able to hear me. What do people do in situations like this? What or who could be controlling Ichigo? I had to find out. Despite my better judgment, I didn't move after that. There was now a sinister smile slowly spreading those lips, sending shivers down my spine. I wasn't sure, but he seemed as though he were truly enjoying my state of shock, confusion, and fright. He looked positively evil.

A split second later, I was caught in a death grip, slowly closing off my air. Unsuccessful with trying to pry his arm away, I tried beating it away. But no matter what I tried, he held strong and squeezed my neck a little more. His fingers felt like dull, iron spokes digging into my neck.

I looked into his eyes, hoping I could plead with him to stop. The smile on his face grew, his sadistic delight was my only answer. It looks like I won't be able to avoid it. I didn't want to hurt Ichigo, but if I wanted to live, now was the time to act. I made a mental apology -as if he could hear it- for what I was about to do.

Using his arm as leverage, I kick out with my right leg. With just enough force and precision aim, my foot landed solidly in his solar plexus. Not expecting that, my roommate's body stumbled backward, clutching his injured stomach. I did not want to hurt him at all, but if it will help me cut the marionette strings moving him, then a few bruises is a small price to pay. If I could somehow knock him out temporarily with the minimal amount of injuries, Ichigo might be out of danger.

The hairs on the back of my neck tingled as Ichigo-no-my opponent made his next move. I refused to think of him as Ichigo anymore, not until I wipe that damned creepy look off his face.

He lunged at me, and I was quick enough to dodge out of his reach, but unable to avoid getting tripped. He pulled my leg, resulting my head getting slammed into the pavement. My vision jostled, doubled, and I had to keep still in order to get back to fuzzy and partially working. At least it wasn't my face. How unattractive would that be? Worse yet, how unattractive would that be to Ichigo!

I hobble to my feet, glaring at the smirking figure before me. Whoever is doing this was cruel, and a real coward to use Ichigo as a shield. What were they afraid of? Why couldn't they just take control of me like him? Why him instead of me? Did he make a local cult group angry enough to sic a demon on him? I know he kind of has a scary-looking face when it comes to small children and that he's a bit of a delinquent when it comes to the adults, but it's just another characteristic to me. I, personally, find that face hot; especially the way the skin between his eyebrows crinkle in exasperation when I'm being particularly difficult with him.

"You're resistant and very interesting." It talked, using Ichigo's voice. "Tell me, why can't I roll you under my spell?" I blinked at that unexpected question. I beg your pardon? Did he say "roll" me?

Still trying to catch my breath, I tried to stall for time, until I could at least figure out what I'm talking to, and how I could get them to show their face. "I don't know what you're talking about," I panted, getting back into my defensive stance. "If you wouldn't hide like a coward, and stop controlling my friend, I might be more cooperative."

There was a slight silence before Ichigo replied. "I believe I shall, since this night will be your last. You hold a good argument. You should at least see who is going to send your soul to the undertaker." The bushes from across the street rustled. "Be not afraid at what you see. Death is a natural course in life." I remain silent.

Ichigo's face went lax and his body fell to the floor. Being as close to him as I was, I caught him, setting him down gently. Lowering his head gently to the ground with my hand as a cushion, I trained my eyes onto the large shadow coming toward the street lamp's light. It revealed a tall, fat man no older than in his forties. His skin was tanned and he had a Bright streak in his naturally brown hair, which reached down to his chin.

"I am Koga. Nice to meet you, boy." So much for no other interruptions.

Edit: Revision done! Woo-Hoo! What did you think? Any favorite parts? Places that need work? Notations or observations? Please give me a review! 


	4. 4

In the middle of the Night Arc Untitled Preface - Chapter 03/?

A/N: You guys leave such silly reviews. XD Thank you!

"I am Koga. Nice to meet you, boy."

I was a jinx. I shouldn't hope so casually for things to go well, things that were far beyond my control. Fate no longer took requests from me. Lately, it seems as though we're not getting along. There were a bunch of questions running through my head, and I couldn't come up with an answer to any of them. So logically, the next best thing to blame would be fate. And now, before me stands my newest opponent. I have no idea what or who he is, I just know that I have to defeat him, or survive escaping him. My body is hunched by Ichigo's side, shielding him as a wind of power sweeps through the area. Koga's power. It cuts through my senses like a hot blade through my skin, rendering me dazed and overwhelmed. Whatever it was, it chopped my own power into pieces. Extreme nausea and pain nipped at my gut as I was now half-draped over my roommate, propped up with one arm.

The trees rustled as if a giant hand raked through them. Trash from public bins were skittering harshly across the otherwise empty vaguely aware of my surroundings, I kept most of my attention on Koga. Or more specifically, his right hand. Gathering in his open palm, the air was bended, twisted and shaped itself until he grasped a large axe that looked almost as big as me. It looked monstrous, dangerous, and downright lethal. Falling heavily to the road, it's tip cracked the pavement, easily splitting it open like rotted fruit.

It took my best effort to stand, and I gave myself a mental pat on the back when I didn't fall back down. Koga's power still clouded over me, but it was less, most of it having been concentrated into his weapon. Glancing around me, I could find nothing to equal that power. How was I supposed to defend against something if I had nothing? Slight correction: I had my zombie power, but I doubted that was going to help me in this situation.

And what about Ichigo? Despite how much I really wanted to run away, he was my first priority. I wouldn't be able to run with him. Being called short annoys the hell out of me, but it's the truth. There was no way I'd be able to carry him. If I could, then there was no way we'd go fast enough to outrun this freak. Even though that axe was huge, I could sense that he would still be able to run faster than me. I had to fight, there was no choice to that. But the question that stirred my brain into chaos was how. I couldn't steal the weapon and use it against him. Judging by the size and weight, I would never be able to lift it. Swords definitely gave me no trouble, guns would be easy to figure out, and with knives all you had to do was aim and throw.

I could try and use his weight and speed against him, but that was risky. It was the only judo move I knew, and it had a wide range of effects. There was a fifty-fifty chance of getting it wrong. I couldn't fight him bare-handed. That was just insane to consider it.

It didn't look like I had any choice, though. I was so caught up in trying to figure out a way for both me and Kurosaki to come out of this alive, it barely registered in the corner of my eye that he'd begun to move. The axe was lifted from the ground, loosened pieces of gravel and dirt falling back into the deep gash in the pavement. Koga hefted it over his shoulder, as casually as one might lift a backpack. If I didn't know any better, I would say there are some serious steroid issues with this massive... Well, I don't know what he his. I just know he isn't a human, or a zombie.

He rushed forward, my reactions didn't give me any time, and I was thrown into a nearby brick wall. I landed on my hands and knees, cuts and scrapes from the rubble bit into my skin, stinging like a bitch, but I was trying to ignore it so I could catch my breath. Shit, what was that? I could barely even see him, he was so fast. I didn't have time to ponder my question before he was in my face again and threw me into a streetlamp pole. I cried out as the metal met my back, there was sure to be a bruise developing there later. I wasn't given the chance to fall to the ground, because Koga was there, holding me up with the long handle of his axe.

He was staring at me intently, and I just hand to blink. What the hell was he look at, or for? This was starting to creep me out in a wrong sort of way. What was this guy's problem? What did he want with me? Did all supernatural creatures fight like this? Were they all this strong?

"I still can't be-spell you even from this distance. How odd..."

I blinked. Huh? What did he want to do, hypnotize me with his eyes? Whatever he thought he could do, he couldn't. They were just eyes to me. Ordinary eyes that had no business being so close to my face! Weakly, my arms lifted as I tried shoving him away. His closeness was making me feel uncomfortable.

Koga laughed, pulling away from my glaring face. Instead of killing me, because as much as I hated to admit it, he had the power right there in his hands to do so, he threw me into a car. There was no alarm going off, so I didn't think I'd hit it that hard. Nope, I definitely didn't make that large dent in the side. I concentrated on trying to stand, but it was extremely difficult. My legs were hurting, but I think I managed to stumble a few feet. That bastard was still laughing at me. Did I really make such a funny sight all banged up like this, or did he have a really twisted sense of humor? My bet was on the latter.

"You are pathetic. I don't need my axe to defeat you." He hooked it onto his back and started cracking his knuckles. "I'll kill you with my bare hands."

He raced toward me, and seeing no other way out, I implemented my crazy strategy. I grabbed his arms as soon as they were within my range. He was momentarily startled, but that was all I needed. Teacher says that a moment's hesitation would be the downfall of the match, and they were right for the most part. Using Koga's momentum, I began to fall backwards. As we fell, I lodged my feet against his large stomach, and when my back hit the ground, I put all the strength of my legs into kicking up, pushing him away. It took a huge effort, but it paid off. I sent the man flying over my body and into a row of cars.

I laid there, breathing heavily as my limbs tried to regain enough of their strength to push me back to my feet. Despite all odds, it had worked. My legs now ached and felt like jelly, but it was a small accomplishment for my ego. I wasn't completely useless, go team me.

Grunting with effort, I rolled over and slowly pushed myself to my feet. Maybe there was a chance at beating him with just my martial arts, if he kept that axe out of it. That was highly unlikely, though. But the area I was in gave up nothing to help me fend it off, and looking around didn't do me much good since Koga could attack me at any moment with his next move. That is when my eyes landed on the cat. A cat who was giving me an awfully serious stare.

It was unnerving, how that cat was staring at me. What's more is the long, painfully familiar sheath and hilt laying behind him... she? It. After managing to fend off Koga to allow myself a rest and a few short breaths of air, it seems completely illogical to start hallucinating. It wasn't my power, that cat felt alive to me. The midnight-black coat shined in the moonlight, seemingly glowing yellow eyes bore into me, and the eerie sensation of power prickled down my spine. Whoever this cat was, I could sense it wasn't their true form, and they were strong. Magically or otherwise, I didn't know the specifics. They could probably defeat Koga easily.

And why the hell did it have my family's sword? I glanced at my opponent. He had gotten up, but he stayed where he was, also looking at the cat with mild intrigue. He was waiting for me to do something. The cat was waiting for me to do something. Well, I guess I should do something. Not letting my guard down with that... thing still around, I walk over to the feline, not quite sure what to say. Would it be able to understand me?

Fortunately for my overactive imagination, which seemed to conjure up all sorts of weird scenarios, I didn't have to speak at all. The cat stood, circled around the sword to sit behind it, and looked up at me again. I almost want to cry at the beautiful sight.

This sword, known affectionately as Hyorinmaru, has been in my family for generations, ever since it was forged in the Heian period. It was mounted on the wall, but father made sure to keep it well cared-for, polished, sharp. As an important part of our family history, it will continue its journey down our family line, and we will continue to take care of it as if it were alive. I wonder, what will happen when I die? If I am doomed to love only Ichigo, then who do I give the sword to?

I bent, slowly, to pick it up. The weight of the sheathed metal in my hands felt oddly comfortable, considering I have never held it before. I wrapped my hand around the light blue hilt, marveling at the four-pointed star that made up the guard, and I remember all the stories written in journals stored in my father's study. I read journal after journal filled with legends of an ice dragon, an eight-pointed star, and a crescent blade, all of which were described in consensual detail.

When I was younger, I thought that if I talked to it, someday it would talk back. The journals said as much, that they, sword and master, communicated often. But it wouldn't work with me. I never thought that I would ever be able to master it. I had a feeling of rejection so tangible, I couldn't eat for days. Nonetheless, I kept up with my kendo classes. I made myself a promise, that one day I would master Hyorinmaru.

Yeah, I was about five. Interesting, I'd forgotten that promise until now. But now, here it is, in my hand, and ready to fight. I pulled the blade out, carefully inspecting the shiny surface reflecting the moonlight. It was beautiful, elegant, and bloodthirsty for the thing standing and staring at me-no... staring at the blade. Well, it's about time we finished this fight.

My legs were killing me, but having Hyorinmaru here gave me strength and endurance to move on and ignore the pain. I felt determined; to save my life, to save Ichigo, and to finally master my family's legendary sword. That line sounds epically cliche, but it's the truth. Setting the sheath down next to the cat, my feet carried me to the place I had left, maybe even a little forward. My body settled in a traditional kendo hunch, both hands fitting perfectly around the hilt. It was almost as long as my body, but it didn't feel awkward like it did with a practice sword.

Koga smirked at me, raising his axe once more. "Are you ready? I can't hold back, now that you're armed. This should be entertaining."

I started formulating a plan while he was talking. He was incredible fast, strong, and had some sort of blood fetish. I needed to restrict his movement, to pin him down with something too heavy for him to lift. A mental snort. Well, a car was out. And that was as heavy as I could think besides a building. That was wishful thinking, even if I could drop a building on him, he'd survive. I could sense that. It would probably give me enough time to get away, to collect Ichigo and the cat and run like hell.

Like I said, wishful thinking. First, I have to stay alive. He said he'd been easy on me until now, I know that was a partial lie. A vibration in my head told me he was lying through his teeth, that he'd been trying his hardest from the very start, without his axe. He was putting on a show for some reason. I don't know why he was doing, but it was making things a little more easier for me. Things were starting to look up.

Praying that Hyorinmaru would help me, Koga charged at me again, axe held parallel to the ground for a horizontal strike. I waited until the last possible moment before I made my move. Bringing my sword down, I tucked myself into a forward roll, and then twisted to the side so that his weapon was swinging through the air above me. There was no victory yet, and as soon as I was on my feet, my sword was blocking his next attack. The strength and force he put behind it almost made me lose my footing.

With so much pressure on Hyorinmaru, there was no way I could attack. It took most of my strength to keep the axe from slicing me in half. I couldn't look around for anything to help me, and that axe was getting dangerously close to my head. What would cause the maximum amount of damage in the least amount of time to allow me to get away? I could kick him in the groin, but I remember that he isn't human and it would be a wasted attack. My legs were straining to keep me standing, I'd fall on my ass if I tried using one. With my arms and legs figuratively all tied up, there was only one body part left to use, but I was reluctant to make my headache and blurry vision any worse.

Koga leaned in, putting further pressure on me. Damn, I didn't really see how else I could get out of this. If I try to back off, he'd be right there waiting to force us into another deadlock, one that I'm sure I would lose. I couldn't afford to put my attention anywhere else, which is why I didn't notice the cat until it was right beside us.

Growling, the large feline tackled the monster in front of me to the ground. I stared in shock as my butt, not so gently, fell to the ground. Large kitty. Huge, panther-like kitty! Shit, I had no idea where it came from. Granted a short reprieve, I look around. Ichigo's body was propped up against a random Car's crumbled frame, and the little cat nowhere in sight. If that cat turned into this giant creature, then I think I better go lie down somewhere in a dark corner and re-evaluate my sensory perceptions. I don't have a concussion, do I?

While the two supernatural creatures were battling it out, I gave a mental thank you and made a limped dash to Ichigo's side to check if he had any injuries. He had a couple of bruises from where I'd hit him, and the mental strain of his body being taken over by another force completely made him pass out, but other than these minor things, he seemed fine, not hurt by the skirmish at all. I breathed a sight of relief. That's one less concern for me. Besides, I would have a hard time explaining what happened when I brought him to the hospital. He'd miss school, then his friends and family would crowd around me for answers and I just would rather not deal with that. Nurse Ichigo back to health, yes. Pay for his checkups, yes. Deal with people? No.

My sword clutched in my hands, I stand back up, feeling a lot better now that I knew Ichigo's condition and able to think clearly. They were still going at it, but I felt I needed to help in some way. I felt helpless and weak, something I don't feel often, something I really needed to correct.

The area we were in was in shambles, and there was no guessing how many people have already gotten hurt. I'm surprised that no one has called the cops. While there were no collapsed buildings as of yet, there was a large dent in the wall and pavement surrounding them. A few cars were crushed into paper balls, and a street lamp was bent from where Koga had pinned me earlier. So much destruction... what is this guy? Anything but normal was kind of obvious, but I wanted a straight answer. Just what the fuck was he?

The mood in the atmosphere changed as there was a loud, strangled growl and more crashing. I looked over to find Koga standing and the cat laying injured by Hyorinmaru's sheath. Quickly making my way over to it, Koga paid us no mind, stretching and working out the kinks in his muscles.

"Damn cat, so annoying... When will you filthy were-animals realize you aren't anywhere near as powerful as us?"

I went to stand in front of the fallen animal, once more in a defensive stance. It had been hurt because of me, and despite what Koga said, that cat had been a godsend! There was no way I was going to let it get further injured. I glared at the man before me, ready to ask questions and demand answers about what the hell was going on.

"What are you talking about? What are you?"

I had to mentally cheer at my voice coming out in a proper shout rather than a gargled cry. I was shaky enough as it was, I didn't need the other to know of it, though I think he got a pretty good guess from my appearance just how much trouble I was having. Still, my pride was too strong to let that stop me.

A chuckle bubbled up inside of me and it took great effort not to let it out. I was starting to sound a bit like Ichigo; a stubborn brat that didn't know when to quit. But there was a chuckle, coming from Koga. Confused at his roller coaster-like actions, I let him have his fun. It was short-lived, and he was once again smirking at me with blood-lusted eyes. Something about that left me a little disturbed.

"You still don't know? How ignorant... You have all this power, and you don't even know about the darker side of this world? What a waste." He opened his mouth into a wider grin, and I was struck with a horrid sense of what he may be talking about. The sharpened teeth were a dead giveaway to the classic monster everyone knew about.

"I'll enlighten you. The thing you a guarding is a were-panther. And I am a vampire."

It was inevitable that I learn about this. I saw it coming, but that didn't make the shock hit me any less. Vampires, of all things, existed. And were-animals, they weren't just wolves? I think I need to sit down again, but decided against it. Koga would be over me in less than a second. This was no time to start wondering what was fact and fiction, but my ever-growing mind grew curiouser. I doubted Koga would tell me, so I kept my mouth shut. Or rather, I kept my voice off, since my mouth decided to do its own thing and fall open like a gaping fish. I hope I didn't look completely retarded.

"And now that you know what I am, I'm sure you can guess what I want from you." My... blood. Ichigo's blood. I wasn't sure if he wanted the panther's blood, he seemed disgusted by the creature. But looking at the sharp fangs, he'd probably thought of doing it just to spite the cat.

"Well, it doesn't matter anymore." His face suddenly turned serious, the most serious I've ever seen it all night. "It's time for things to end. I really rather like you, but I must kill you."

I stalled, just to give myself and everyone here some time to think about what was going to happen next. "If you like me, then why kill me?" I was expecting some sort of sick and twisted tale, about how he found pleasure in cutting young human lives short so suddenly. I wasn't expecting a long-winded response full of pity.

"Orders. The man I serve, it is his wishes I follow, we all must. You were intriguing, and I wish I could let you live, but... Your life is forfeit. If you run, I'll catch you. If you fight, I will kill you. And don't bother screaming for help, I've put everyone within a five-mile radius into deep sleep." He held out his axe, pointing it at me. "If you are ready, let's get this over with. I promise to make your death quick. I can't seem to put you under my spell, either, otherwise you would've ended up just like your friend. I cannot feed on you, so this would be the next best thing."

There was no way I was handing over my life, or Ichigo's, on a silver platter. I will meet him in battle, and do absolutely anything and everything I can to win, or at least die trying. It sounded like this vampire was unhappy, like in many stories I've read or seen. But that wasn't going to stop me. Were all vampires as emotional and duty-bound to their masters as this one?

After a few moments of silence, Koga charged again. Still confused with his sudden change in character, I braced myself. This was a depressed, emotional, bi-polar vampire with a sense of humanity? And not that I wanted him to, but what prevented him from feeding on me? Was it my zombie power? I didn't have time to contemplate those questions thoroughly, as he was coming at me, his axe posed above his head for a vertical attack. I hoped the wounded cat got away. And Ichigo...

Koga was going to eat Ichigo after he killed me. I couldn't let that happen! This was all because of my strange power... This was the price for asking me out on a date. His very life was in trouble because I attracted bad luck all around me. I suddenly wanted to be near him. I wanted to hear his voice speak deeply to me, call me by my name, and tell me about his day. I want to see him wear that skimpy towel again... The proverbial life-ending kiss seeped into my head, and I nearly let out a whimper. I'd never be able to kiss him if this ended badly. I wished for that falling building, because then it would've given me time.

Time to live, laugh, cry and love the person who is currently out of my physical reach. I wanted to touch him again, only if it was a hand on the shoulder or a leg brushed against another. Even if he was unconscious, I wanted to kiss him. Call me spoiled and selfish, but that is what I really wanted to do.

Koga was upon me, giant axe swinging down. I cry out, Hyorinmaru's name on my tongue as I gave one last prayer for it to protect me. Unconsciously, I poured some of my power into it. I wasn't aware, my eyes having closed long ago to absorb the pain I knew would eventually come, but the air around me grew cold, freezing like the dead. A whirlwind of energy whipped around us, wind from his axe and ice from my sword.

Feeling nothing after several seconds, and the heavy panting above me, I cautiously open my eyes to see what the hell was taking him so long. He had the power to defeat me, why wasn't he going through with it? And after all that boisterous talk about ending me quickly was for nothing?

I gasp at such an alien sight in front of me. I cut off my cynical, sarcastic thoughts, staring at the cold display in front of me. Koga was layered in thick ice. The tip of my sword was embedded deep in his heart, and was the source of the ice. The axe fell to the pavement once more, frozen hands snapping off with it. Not really wanting my sword to snap as well, I pulled it out just in time. Koga's body fell backwards, ice breaking into millions of tiny shards. He didn't move after that, and I stupidly wondered if I managed to kill him. But the rise and fall of his chest told me he was still alive.

Koga raised a weak hand through all the ice to beckon me over, and I wondered if I should. He just tried to kill me, I was entitled to some hesitance. When I finally convinced my body that he was the one on the floor and I was still alive, I moved to stand over him. His breaths were shallow and coarse, but he manage to get his voice working.

"I have... a request. Kill me..." What the fuck sort of request was that? Disbelief and suspicion must have shown on my face, because he then shook his head, frantically trying to explain. "You have to, otherwise he'll come after you, himself."

"Who?"

That voice was not mine, and it made my back rigid, frozen in a solid posture like the ice surrounding us. He was awake? Since when? Koga said he put everyone asleep. If that had been a lie, I should have felt it. Or maybe I was too caught up in the fight to really notice, but whatever the case, it didn't change the fact that the person was behind me was now aware of one out of two huge secrets I had. There was a battler inside of me, whether to cheer or cry. I was thankful he was awake, but knowing what he's like, the discussion we were most certainly going to have back at the dorm was going to be... tense to put it mildly. Too scared to look at him right now, I focused my eyes solely on Koga.

"Kariya... he..." His breath hitched, making him pause. "He'll come after you."

"Then what would be the point in killing you?" I cringed at Ichigo's question. It seems he hadn't been up for as long as I thought... Since Koga went into a fit of coughs, I gave him the answer. Finally looking at him, I could see the weariness in his eyes and posture. He looked like he just woke up, or was still half asleep.

"Because we would be forced into this same situation." I looked back at the axe wielder. "Is that it? Did you forced this issue? You did, didn't you?"

He laughed, gurgling a little. "I lost. I'm now just an old fool, a warrior past his prime."

I did not like that answer. It made my blood boil in rage. After all the shit he put me and Ichigo through, he went and pulled a stunt like this. I couldn't find myself to sympathize with the vampire and did exactly what my mind dictated. Ignoring Ichigo's sudden exclamation, I grabbed a handful of shirt and gave him the most vile glare I could create.

"You bastard! You make me smack around a friend of mine, then you smack me around, and then a cat! If you are expecting any sort of pity from me, you will not have it! You are a fool! Answer my question, why the hell did you sacrifice yourself for all this?"

"Toshiro..."

I glare at Ichigo, angry and not afraid of anything right now than my suddenly, rapidly rising anger and, surprisingly, sadness. "Stuff it, Kurosaki! Stay out of my way!" Not waiting for a response, I turn back to Koga. "Explain yourself!"

He chuckled, not really sounding too sick or injured anymore. I remember reading some vampires can heal themselves. It would appear this story was true. But Koga didn't attack. He stayed as he was, making no move to get away. "Because I thought it was my time to leave. You were the perfect opportunity. Once I caught whiff of your power, I planned things accordingly. I'm sorry, but I cannot stay in this world anymore."

"And how did you come to this conclusion? Aren't vampires supposed to be bloodthirsty, egotistical pricks? Isn't there any way for a vampire to commit suicide? Why drag me into this?" I had so many more questions, but I had to cut myself off to give him a chance to speak.

Koga sighed and grunted with a half smile. "A vampire turned Kariya, but failed to control him. He wasn't a Master by any means. Then Kariya made me. By that time, I was too old to live forever. So was he, but we were best friends, and we stuck together."

"Master?"

"A Master is a vampire who can control everything, everyone in his territory. And a territory can be as big as an entire city like this one. Kariya could be one." He sat up, and I had to wonder if we were supposed to all be sitting in a circle sharing cookies and milk for story time. What the hell was he getting at? "Unfortunately, not having a master made it rough for his sanity. He killed his sire and created his own family. That is why I was here, to be his voice of reason and to look after the young ones. But I think... It's time for a change. Not all vampires are the same, he has definitely broken some of the rules."

Sighing, I let his shirt go and stood up. "What change? Rules?" Vampires had rules?

"It's complicated political stuff, but in short, it's time for Kariya to die." He lifted he head from where he was staring at the floor. "And I think you are the one to do it. It's about time we all died."

Not bothering to try understanding the idea of vampire politics, I could not believe what I was hearing a vampire confess to wishing for his own clan's death! Isn't assisted suicide and mass murder illegal? Well, obviously not for vampires, but I have never killed anyone before. Sure earlier was a do-or-die circumstance, but now I'm supposed to outright murder the bastard? What gives him the right to demand this of me? What made me so special? Why won't everyone just leave me the hell alone?

"You are the first person I really felt could do this. Although you may be new to all this, I have confidence that you will grow stronger. I think you are the only one who could do this. The master in this city is powerful, yes, even more-so than you. But we are here illegally, and as soon as Kariya decides to leave, they will no longer be pursued. I'm tired. And I think, to some extent, so is he. Besides, you should get some insight on the nightlife before getting thrust into it, shouldn't you? This will be good practice for you."

It was really hard for me to resist punching the bastard. The big guy was starting to grow on me, and now he wants me to kill him. He may have confidence in my abilities, but I'm sure as hell not confident about them. I haven't had this ability for very long. Ichigo was hearing all of this, what was he thinking? I'm dying to know what he makes of all of this, but I know I won't be able to find out until later, when we have that talk. It sends shivers down my spine just thinking about it. It was going to be really uncomfortable, especially since I kept quiet about my powers.

And a vampire wants me to kill him. How's that for fucked up? I felt warmth cover my hand holding Hyorinmaru. Ichigo's expression soften, giving me a worried look. He looked like he wanted nothing more than to walk away from all this, but he understood Koga better than I did, because his eyes were silently encouraging me to go through with it. This worried me.

"You agree with him? You think I should kill him?" He nodded. "Aren't you the least bit freaked out by this? Don't you think this whole scenario is just a bit insane? Tell me you aren't suggesting that everything he's saying is getting to you!"

"Toshiro..."

Shit, that tone in his voice it me so hard, my breath hitched. I loathed to admit it, but it did make sense, a lot of sense. I didn't want to believe any of it. I didn't know about vampires being real, or that they had some sort of political system, or even that were-animals existed. But now I do, and I can't go back. Because of Koga's forceful entry into my life, pretending he wanted to eat me, I now know of what's out there, and I can't turn a blind eye anymore. Why? Because that was the sort of person I was. College life had just become less of a problem. And why wasn't Ichigo freaking out about this more? As far as I knew, he was normal! I'm not normal, and I was having trouble with every word...

I turned back to Koga, unaware until now that our spat had led me to stand in front of my roommate, invading his personal space. I needed to cool off, my body and my temper. Now was not the time to be thinking about that. I had to deal with Koga... Ugh, what was I getting myself into?

"Alright. I promise I'll help you. But do I have kill you? Can't you hide?"

Koga shook his head. "Kariya will find me. I told you, he's a-"

"-A master, I know. Can't you commit suicide?"

He shook his head. "It goes against my honor code. This is as close to suicide I'm willing to go. I lost to you, therefore my life is in your hands." A vampire with an honor code? Ha!

Still, it was hard to do. Why couldn't he go back to being a bad vampire? Instead, he had to show me his softer side? I was willing to kill if it would save my life and Ichigo's, but now I was having doubts. I was trying to rationalize in my mind that this was helping him and saving us in the long run, but it didn't seem to want to click in my brain.

And what did Koga mean by insight? Was the rest of his vampire family thinking about this? Will I have to kill every single one of them? I really don't know if I could do that... I take karate and kendo to better myself as a person and self defense, not to murder people or... non-people. What made Koga so secure about me? What sort of fanfare will my celebrity powers bring? Will I be helping stray vampires until I'm old and wrinkly? I certainly hope not, if this situation was any indication of a normal night.

The hand tightened around mine, another hand squeezing my left shoulder. I had to force a swallow to wet my throat enough to speak. But what could I say? I doubted there was anything I could say or do to make the situation any easier. Ichigo has already done that, holding me against him, every now and then caressing my arm. Still, death is never easy. Whether you're dying, or the one dealing death, your life becomes a constant, messy cycle. You risk death while you're dealing death, and you have be to mentally strong enough to stomach those deaths you give, whatever the reason you come up with. That is my biggest fear. I can't handle this. What if I go insane right in front of him? Would he even be able to help me?

Koga moved my sword to his throat, and I watch as Ichigo's hand follows, embracing mine. I don't feel alone right now, but...

"This way," he said, "I'll share the pain with you."

Thank you Ichigo. Those words gave me courage. For now, protecting my friends and upholding Koga's last wish will be the reasons I fight. Until I can find my own reason, someone else will give one to me. After Ichigo's promise, we lifted the sword and put all our strength into swiping Koga's head clean off his shoulders. I didn't really want to see anything so gruesome, but my ice had still meandered throughout his body, so the only mess were a bunch of crystals. He was in more pain than he'd let on.

I really wanted to close my eyes, turn my head in to Ichigo's chest, and cry. I wanted to go home and fall asleep with him, curled together so that I have someone to hold and hold me in case any nightmares started. But I didn't close my eyes. I kept them wide and open, taking in the sight of my first supernatural kill. It was the kill that started the rest, and I'll never forget it. I burned it into my memory; the images, feelings, my cold power stirring in my gut wanting more, and Ichigo's warm body pressed against mine.

In truth, it kind of scared me. How could I think about wanting him at a time like this? Why was there a chill running throughout my body at the sight of the half frozen vampire at our feet? And where the hell did that damn cat go?

What seemed forever could have only been five minutes, and it was time we decide what to do. Pulling my eyes away from the corpse was a lot harder than I thought, but I did it anyway. Koga, rest in peace..

I found my sheath, but looking around the area, I couldn't find that panther. Strange, when did it leave? I virtually forgot it had been there. I had hoped to thank them, but they were long gone by now. How was I supposed to keep track of the supernatural when all it does is either randomly attack me, or run away from me? It couldn't be helped, so I silently prayed to meet them again one day to thank them, however farther down the road that was.

Sheathing Hyorinmaru, still clean from cutting through the iced vampire, I was about to turn to Ichigo and finally give him my full attention when a plain, white card caught my eye. Peaked with curiosity, I lifted it to my face. There was a black butterfly on it, and that was it. Confused, I flipped it over. There was the name of a shop, and an address.

"The Urahara Shouten?"

A/N: Yay, for a new chapter! -Winks- Next chapter is in progress! Thank you for all your favorites/alerts/reviews! To show my appreciation, here is a little sneak peak at what is coming up!

"Answer me, Kurosaki."

"I told you to call me Ichigo."

"Don't change the subject."

"I wasn't. Just reiterating."

"What do you know?"

"A lot more than you."

"And why is that?"

"Because I'm like you. Actually, my entire family has powers. We are..."

(Insert evil cackle) 


	5. 5

In the Middle of the Night Arc Untitled Preface Chapter 04/?

The streets were empty on our way home, and I remembered Koga saying he put everyone in a sleeping spell. Whether or not they woke up once he died was still in the air. After all of that ruckus we made, the night was dead silent. It made my skin shiver. Perhaps my brain just wanted to pick on it because it was extremely eerie not even seeing a homeless bum, but the entire trip back to the dorm was spent looking over my shoulder and every which way to make sure nothing else jumped out at us unexpectedly. Ichigo was greatly amused at my twitchy antics, but I didn't care. I had seen way too much shit tonight.

At the area I had secretly dubbed "the battleground," it didn't take me long to notice just how much of a mess we'd made. How were we supposed to set the streetlamps straight, un-crumple the cars, and get rid of the vampire's body without getting caught? I was a forced expert on old horror movies, but none of them ever had this sort of problem. The plots, if any at all, were solely focused on killing the supernatural creatures. If that large cat were still here, I might've asked for some help. but considering what he'd done for me already, it would be selfish.

Amidst my panicking, I was vaguely aware of Ichigo moving toward the dead body, and my eyes couldn't leave him as he bent over, giving me a nice backside view. My curiosity peaked as he scooped several bloody shards that had slivered off from the severed head into a black drawstring bag no bigger than a coin purse. I counted five, one large and the rest smaller and around the same size. He drew the bag closed, walked over to me and put it in my hand, telling me to keep it on me at all times. After being bombarded with my questions, he said he'd explain later and nudged me in the direction of our dorm, leaving the body in the middle of the sidewalk for any poor imbecile to trip over. I tried demanding to know about that, too, but he just said it was taken care of.

I held that promise to him. There was absolutely no way I was going to let him out of my sight tonight without any explanation for his odd, but attractive behavior. The idiocy had melted away to reveal calmness, awareness and control. His face was a beautiful sculpture of intelligence, his body moving fluidly despite the bruises I'd given it. How did I manage not to tackle him right then and there?

Anyone seeing the pair of us walking through the halls of our dormitory would probably run away to throw up somewhere, or try to figure out just how many layers of hell I had managed to trek through. Our clothes, hair and skin were bloodied and discolored. Thankfully, I didn't feel the full force of the pain my body was going through until the door to our rooms closed. Let's hear it for the adrenalin rush!

I sighed in relief as I sat down in the dining room, taking all the weight off my - I didn't realize they were shaking - injured legs. I leaned back, but when pain shot up my spine, jumped back forward into a slouched posture. Back of chair - bad.

Ichigo's shadow fell over me as he bent to examine the extent of damage on my legs. He'd gotten away with minor aches, but that didn't make me feel any better. I had to work at holding back my wince. The orange-head seemed to be okay with it, but I was not. I had preferred him not to have gotten hurt at all, despite the fact that he had been forced to attack and attempt to me. How did this Koga person figure out ny weakness so easily? Is it really that apparent?

My skull, miraculously, wasn't busted open, but the headache could have proven otherwise. And Ichigo's stare wasn't helping. I tried not to shiver. His eyes were intense, it made my man parts all tingly. What was he looking for? I would have gotten offended if I didn't find it kind of hot. His eyes were dead center on mine and no where else. I felt trapped, like a pinned insect under the scrutiny of a microscope. My nerves were set on fire, and my body doubled in it's efforts to resist a shiver as his face came mere inches away from mine. But that didn't stop my heartbeat from picking up. W-what was he doing all of a sudden?

"When were you going to confess about your powers?"

His low voice washed over me in a warm wave of his strawberry-scented breath. Err... Was I supposed to respond? I muttered a quiet "eventually," giving myself props for keeping my voice steady in his presence.

"Why?" He sounded genuinely hurt by my response, and I couldn't fathom why. "Did you think that I wouldn't try to help you out? We're roommates, friends, peers..."

I frowned at his almost-rant, annoyance making me answer truthfully. "No. I just needed a little while to get used to it. I'm -still- trying to get used to it!" I was borderline angry at him as I realized something important. I slapped the puck of verbal abuse back at him. "I figured, you being normal, you would have a hard time adjusting to it, too!" I lean forward and glared at him only a couple of centimeters away. I tried to calm my voice, to look carefully at his reactions to the next line I fed him. "But you aren't, are you?"

Ichigo looked away from me, and I grew even more confident at my victory. "Now who's being secretive? Answer me, Kurosaki!"

He kept his face turned away and cast downward, but he allowed himself to speak to me. "I told you to call me Ichigo." I mentally scoff. Well, at least he wasn't ignoring me.

I crossed my arms in front of my chest, managing not to jerk at the pain. Until I see for myself what's under my shirt, I can only imagine how bad it looks. But that could wait until later. Right now, I had a bone to pick with my roommate, and I wasn't letting him get out of it. "Don't change the subject."

"I wasn't. Just reiterating."

I reached up and grabbed the front of Ichigo's shirt, pulling him back down to my level. The sudden movement made him stumble and caused him to finally look back at me. Good. "What do you know? Tell me everything."

He hesitated, probably trying to piece the words together properly. "As far as everything supernatural, yes. I know a lot." I think he was worried I would take offense to that, it showed in his eyes. Offended, yes, but that wasn't the reason. And willing the emotion away from my voice was as hard as looking right while looking left at the same time, but successful.

"And why is that?"

There was a brief pause as Ichigo pondered what to say. We stayed there, close and breathing into each others faces. My hear almost stopped beating when he leaned in even closer, supporting himself by resting his hands on either side of my chair's seat. Was that even possible, to be closer and not be kissing? He made it possible, and unbearable. All I wanted to do was close that small space between us.

"I'm like you. My entire family has powers."

My breath hitched, and this time I could swear my heart really did skip a beat. I recoiled, as if his words had hit me hard, fast, like the proverbial bag of bricks. My back came in harsh contact with the back of the chair, and I straightened as pain flared to life. I think I pulled a few muscles trying to withstand it. "Powers... Like mine?"

He shook his head, looking around me, my body, as if studying me. I could see him looking at something invisible to me. "No... You power is different than mine, otherwise I wouldn't have taken so long to identify it." I lifted an eyebrow at him. "You and I both have powers, just different flavors. You have the power of death. I have the power of nature." So he was some sort of witch? I certainly didn't peg him to be the type to wear a pointy hat and robe. Uh-oh... Amusing mental image... Must... hold back... laughter...

My twitching mouth escaped my control, and I hadn't noticed it until Ichigo said something. "It's not easy being stereotyped, ya know..."

Was he pouting? I cleared my throat in an attempt to calm down and not laugh outright. "Sorry, I didn't mean to laugh at you." It was the truth, until that mental picture came around the corner.

He shrugged. "No, I don't wear any sort of outrageous outfits like what you're imagining. There really isn't a technical term for what I call myself, but there are a bunch of terms everyone else use. Warlock, wizard, sorcerer, magician... But the people that know me and of my power call me a witch if not by name like I'm always insisting."

I could tell he's done this sort of explanation before. I always associated the term of "witch" to just girls, but I could make an exception for him. And as far as outrageous outfits go, I'd say that that isn't entirely accurate. All you would need to do to confirm this is take a peek into his closet, or invite him out on a stroll. Next thing you know, you're meeting the sight of him in leather, lace, fishnet, or all of the above paired with something elegant and luxurious. Shaking the usual, x-rated thoughts from my head, I tried to keep focused on the conversation. "And your family?"

"We're a clan. There are a few in this city." He knelt down to look at my legs, and I almost breathed in relief as I let go of his top. His presence was always overwhelming to my senses. "I'll tell you about it later." Gee, where have I heard those words before? "Let's get you cleaned up, first, okay?" Despite my deepening curiosity, I let it go, nodding my consent. "Good," he said, standing up. He started walking to his room. "I'll get my stuff. You take off your clothes."

If only that comment was meant as perverted as it sounded! Why is it that my mind has no objections to doing dirty, naughty things with him, but if it's an innocent - pfft - request, I have a run in with my modesty issues? First off was my shirt. I could handle being bear-chested, so it was the easiest to take off. That and my back gave no protest. Turning around myself, I could see dark bruises formed all around my stomach, back and chest from where I had been smacked around like a rag doll.

The jeans were an entirely different story. Lowering them to my knees had been easy enough. Shifting my weight from side-to-side allowed me to wiggle out of them while staying on the chair. But the wounds decorating my shins halted my progress. I was no stranger to injuries, but nothing this severe had ever happened to me. Nevertheless, they has to come off, no matter how unsightly my reaction would be.

Ah, my knight in shining armor has returned with his personal med kit. I had only seen it once or twice since living with him. He would give me something every now and then to get rid of a particularly nasty bruise, or gash I would occasionally get from practice. As for the lesser injuries, we have a smaller kit with band-aids and a small tube of Neosporin in the bathroom. Seeing the delayed state I was in, Ichigo let out a soft sigh. Setting his kit down with a muffled thud on the carpeted floor, he knelt in front of me, hands slowly going to the hem of my pants. I knew what he was about to do, and I braced myself for it. My knuckles turned white as I gripped the edge of my seat and I clenched my jaw shut, ready to hold back any sort of unmanly sounds.

Ichigo ripped off my pants in one fluid motion. The rough material scrapped against my legs, and a loud grunt escaped my tightened throat. I had to take a moment and concentrate so my burning and stinging legs wouldn't take over my voice. After my head cleared and the pain subsided enough for me to get my bearings, I opened my eyes to find a hand in front of me. I don't remember closing my eyes, but that wasn't important. What was important was the sweet serenity that hand was offering out to me. Pills, most-likely painkillers. Greedily, I sucked them in and swallowed them dry, the water that was offered went down mechanically a second later, almost as an afterthought.

I sighed and leaned forward as Ichigo opened his med kit. "Better?" he asked. I nodded. The pills haven't taken effect yet, but I knew they would soon, and that small bit of comfort really did make me feel better.

He sat cross-legged on the floor, trying to get comfortable, and I took notice of the items around him. They were what you would find in an emergency medical briefcase; tweezers, ointment, gauze, tape... Currently in use was a cotton ball and a bottle of iodine, which he used to dab at my skin, cleaning the excess dried and fresh blood off my leg. It didn't really hurt at all, so I was able to relax and watch his hands. After cleaning every inch of my skin, he put the cotton balls in a plastic bag he was temporarily using as a trash. The tweezers were next in his hands, and he set about removing any and all gravel that had been lodged in my cuts. It took him a while, and several more uses of the iodine, but eventually, a large pile formed in his makeshift trash bag. It was interesting to watch because I couldn't tell what was gravel from what was dried blood, and with fresh blood still oozing out and covering everything, I had to praise his eyesight and experience.

Time passed and I couldn't tell if it was slow or fast. I was to enamored with Ichigo's hands to really keep track. I should invest in a watch. Finished, the tweezers were dropped into a basin of water, along with what looked like a sanitizing solution. I leaned my head in my hand, propped up by my elbow on the table, as he again took a cotton ball to my leg, once more looking for any gravel he might have missed. His hands were so gentle, on holding the back of my heel, the other brushing against my broken skin. Excuse the morbid undertone, but it felt kind of nice.

But it was over far too soon, as his hands then uncapped the jar of ointment. The olive green paste was foreign to my eyes, and the jar was unlabeled, so I had to ask. "Is that something you made yourself?"

"Yes," he confirmed, dipping his fingers into it. "I guess you could call it a sort of family recipe." I snorted at the bad pun, but I had to give him credit for attempting. Ichigo applied the soothing cream directly onto my gashes, and I had to marvel at its cooling touch against the heat of my burning skin. After applying a generous amount, he wrapped up my leg securely with gauze and tape.

When he stood and left to empty his basin of dirty, bloody water, I waved my leg about, testing its mobility. A little stiff, but otherwise okay. The painkillers were in full effect, but I could still feel some low throbbing. Being only a med student, there were still some drugs he was unable to get his hands on, but he wasn't doing bad for a part-time nursing degree. We still had one leg to go, but I didn't mind that. He came back with a clean basin of water, a new bag for trash, and started the process all over again. I let my head fully lay on the table, thinking. Was he so good because he was using his powers? Is that why part of him decided to go into the family business? Maybe it was my power, I certainly wouldn't doubt that. I still haven't fully understood it. My power had been drawing all sorts of attention lately. The dead, the vampire, Ichigo, and then that cat along with that mysterious card still in my jean pocket.

I groaned as I sunk my head to shift onto my arm. Ichigo looked up, wondering if he had hurt me, but I gave him a quick shake of my head to say I was fine. The wright of influences my power created was overwhelming, and I briefly wondered where my dream had gone, getting my psychology degree and growing a few inches. Suddenly, those things seemed far away, as if pushed into the darkness in the corner of my mind. I had a feeling college was not going to be as much of a breeze as I thought it would. I just hope my grades won't suffer.

"Are you alright?" The sudden question made me lift my head and meet his gaze. Ichigo's hand paused in its work, tweezers hovering over a particularly nasty gash. Truthfully, I wasn't alright, but not for any reason Ichigo might think. Physically, I'm fine, and I think he didn't really believe me when I tried to ease his worry earlier.

My thoughts were really weighing me down and causing my mind to sink into depression. Ichigo's, I could see, was following. He looked genuinely ready to do anything and everything to make me feel better. His eyebrows were furrowed in concern, sculpted lips dipped at the corners into a beautiful frown of disapproval. Yet his eyes were softened with care, no doubt picking up on my less than stellar mood. I needed to get the intensity in this room off our shoulders.

Once again, I laid my head down on my arms, making him wait for a moment while I admired his tormented face. "I'm okay. Talk to me about these witch powers of yours. I'm curious and the silence is pulling me in a direction I don't want to think about." I was half-surprised when he granted my request. I expected him to talk, but not about his powers.

He went back to picking the gravel out of my leg. "My family is one of three magic clans in Karakura; Kurosaki, Shiba and Quincy." He paused again and his frown grew at my leg. "Any deeper and this would have needed stitches." I rolled my eyes at the wayward comment and poked him with my large toe, urging him to continue with both the information and leg.

"Shiba and Kurosaki are only one family, but the Quincy used to be an entirely different people, with many different families. It was once the greatest band of witches around, but since their decimation a few hundred years ago, only the Ishida family is left."

My body jerked with surprise. "Ishida?"

"The one-in-the-same. While I consider him my friend, he likes to prove how Quincy he is, they all share a trait of stubborn competition." He smiled fondly, as if looking back on the times they'd competed against something, and it was adorable. "He's studying to be a lawyer. Have you ever had a debate with him?" At my shake, he smirked. "It would be an interesting sight." It was very difficult to keep my tongue in my mouth. It would childish if let it slip out, and I don't do childish in front of anyone. "But I excel in athleticism and art, and he absolutely hates me for it." I could understand Ishida's frustration with that. I had no drawing talent, either, but we have to wise up. Some people have it, and some of us don't.

"So you already know about vampires..." It was more of an observation, a fact, instead a question.

Ichigo began to apply the last of that really good ointment to my leg. "Yes. And while most vampires aren't as evil as the media suggests, the occasional bad apple gets through and we get together with the local master to destroy it." I shivered as he touched a particularly sensitive area on my leg, but he didn't seem to notice. Small favors... "The Quincy are most proficient at battle. They have their own signature weapon, a bow and arrows made of their own energy. I've tried several time to get him to show me how to do it, but wouldn't you figure, he upturns his nose and laughs at me being unable to do something he can." I believed it.

"For my clan, the Kurosaki household, we use most of our magic for healing. And if we have to fight, we use our magic to enhance our physical bodies so we can wield the great-sword Zangetsu. He is the family heirloom, much like your Hyourimaru." How fascinating. I never new he had a family sword much less knew how to use one. He's more well-versed in fighting than I gave him credit for. I'm going to have to test just how good he his some day.

"I do know a little about guns, though." That surprised me, and I lifted my face to him with a questioning glance. Embarrassed, he blushed and scratched the back of his head with the hand not covered in ointment. "Kaien, a Shiba, he and I are pretty close friends, so he's taken me to the shooting range a few times. His family is the only one that knows how to use a wide range of weapons. Seriously, he can handle anything! Their magic is mainly for support or defense. Like to shield from physical or magical attacks, to blind or confuse the enemy, and to hasten our agility. Stuff like that."

I nodded in understanding, taking all of this information in and storing it to scrutinize piece by piece later on. It was outrageous, and if I hadn't just been dealing with a vampire, then I would've told him to stop pulling my leg. But my leg was very comfy in his lap and far from the forefront of my mind. I had no intentions of backing down from gaining so much useful information from him. And to think Ichigo really did have a healing touch...

"What do you do?"

He cocked his head, bandages limp in his hands. "You mean as a clan?" At my nod, he looked down, thinking. It took him a minute before he started wrapping my leg. If that smirk was any indication, he was going to get smart with me. "You should come over some time and meet my family. Then you'd know."

I frowned. That cheeky bastard... "Well, aren't you funny."

He grinned. "Who's laughing?"

"You are. It's written all over you face."

"No, I'm smirking. There's a difference."

"You know what I mean, so don't deny it."

"Aww, did I ruffle your feathers? I'm sorry." At first I thought he was being sarcastic and witty, but when I felt his lips flutter over my kneecap, I could tell he was partially serious. I'm not blushing, am I? "Now turn around and straddle the chair." My heart fluttered like a butterfly into my throat... "Your back won't heal itself." ... And it sank like a brick into my stomach. Truthfully, I'd completely forgotten about my back. Ooops.

With his help, my body maneuvered to do as he said. I leaned forward to brace my arms and head on the edge of the high back and got a very good peek into the open door of his room. To my surprise, of what I could see, it was very clean, though I'd bet any day that his closet was a mess, the way he flocks around if he's running late.

There was a cool touch to my back and my eyes closed in ecstasy. "These don't look that bad. Your legs will leave some light scaring, but this should heal up just fine."

It was a relief to hear not every part of me will gain ugly scars, it meant I haven't lost all my appeal to Ichigo yet. A couple of lines defines a person, but being covered is... less than attractive to put it mildly. Yes, I know beauty isn't everything, but I can be a shallow person. A few scars I can handle. It would be interesting to see how many fibs I could come up with regarding how i got them. I couldn't very well tell anyone that they were from being assaulted by an emotional, bi-polar vampire, could I?

Speaking of. "Ichigo. Why did we leave Koga in the street? You said you'd tell me."

He took a moment, and guessing by the tone in his voice, he was a little nervous. "The disposal team will take care of it." He didn't have to see my face to know I was more than confused. "A group that works and gets paid by the Master. They get rid of all supernatural evidence. Anything concerning eye witnesses, damaged property or victims of any sort are all dealt with by them." He began wrapping my torso. "You usually have to call them and let them know about it, but I saw one of their vans parked down the street, so I knew it would be taken care of."

Ichigo patted my shoulder when he was finished and helped me to sit properly on the chair again. He took a minute to clean the area while I pondered over his answer. I didn't know who this Master person was, but my guess was some sort of Supernatural head-honcho. Ichigo buzzed around me, throwing away his trash and packing away his kit. I don't know where he got that monstrous thing, it looked like something of an Eighties reject make-up case, but it came in very useful. No one would expect to find anything remotely medical in there.

I tested my strength and stood up. Whether it was the ointment, painkillers, or the combined work of both, I was able to stumble around for a little bit without much pain. That was good. If I got enough sleep tonight, I might be healed enough to walk around normally tomorrow. My shorts-wearing days weren't over yet, and as long as I wear pants for the time being, no one will question me. But summer was fast approaching, and they said it was going to be an uncomfortable one. Here' hoping I don't die of heat stroke while I'm healing.

My feet lead me back to my chair, and I let my body flop onto it just in time to see Ichigo coming out of his room. He pulled another chair over to face me and sat down. "How is it?"

"Fine. At least I can walk." He did a really good job, and although I already knew he was pretty good with his nursing, I've gained a whole new respect for the extent of his skills.

Ichigo shrugged in that careless manner of his, the one that constantly annoyed me, and supported his head on and elbow-propped arm. "Maybe you should think of this as a calling card, that you aren't supposed to have a human job. Or if you do, then consider it a part-time thing, right?"

I ignored that preposterous suggestion. "Hey, while we're on th subject of calling cards, do you know anything about the Urahara Shouten?"

To say he looked shocked was an understatement. He stilled, grew a little pale, and his eyes were a little wide. "You got a card from the Urahara Shouten?"

I nodded, pointing.

Ichigo narrowed his eyes in that direction and walked over to the corner where my clothes lay in a crumpled pile. Here's hoping they didn't stain the floor. Digging around in my pockets, he finally retrieved the small card, looking it over carefully. After a few moments of silence, I wondered what could be so important for him to be so pensive. What was this Urahara place?

"Nice job, Toshiro." Before I could scold him for saying my first name and making me shudder in delight, he interrupted. "You've caught the attention of an oracle."

My mouth voiced my exact thoughts. "A what?"

"An oracle." He gave me the card. "They're people blessed with visions of the future and elongated life. They guide people based on their visions of good or bad, to avoid it, or to make sure it happens. It depends on what type of person they are, and what they, personally, want to happen." I looked at the cardboard. It hadn't changed from when I last inspected it. "And now that you have this card, you have to pay him a visit. It's unthinkable to decline." He crossed his arms. "How about to tomorrow afternoon, after classes? I' take you over there, myself, since I know the guy."

There was yet another thing I was not expecting. I shouldn't really be surprised, considering the whole night had been like this, but I was. Ichigo knew an oracle personally? Did that mean he knew about me before I came to this school? I wanted to get a little angry at that. Wanted, but couldn't. I didn't want to assume things, and it was fair to Ichigo. I was blind to what my powers extended to beyond the dead, so it might have been my fault if he did. All I knew was this oracle sounded very powerful. He must know something that could help me. I really did want to meet him.

However, the prospect of Ichigo coming with me sounded.. not unpleasant, but uncomfortable. While, yes, he did give me support and he had just healed my injuries and I'd trust him with my very life, I didn't want him knowing about my crush on him just yet. If it came up, and it probably will if the oracle knew the future, I'd be mortified beyond all coherency.

Reluctantly, I agreed to meet him outside the school by the fountain in the front grounds. After a bowl of soup and satisfying my itchy fingers with the smooth keys on my laptop for several hours, we turned in for the night. My bed was large, warm and comfy, and I easily fell asleep within ten minutes of my head hitting the pillow. My legs were still almost pain free, and I sunk further into dreamland than I had in the past two weeks. Something told me it was that ointment.

Dreamland. Lately, mine have been several. Even before gaining my power, many strange and scenic dreamworlds enter my subconscious. With no power over one comes next, it's almost always something different. Only two have been constant; an empty city tipped sideways, and a large plain of ice.

Never before were there any animals or people in these fantasy places. Empty, the only sound being the wind and the echoing of my footsteps. Strangely, there's no feeling of cold or hot in these worlds. Every single time I enter the plains of ice, it's always in the middle of a blizzard, yet the wind only feels like a summer's breeze to me. This was how it's always been... until that night.

When I entered my dream, there was no blizzard. The air was calm, there's not the slightest breeze, and for once I was able to see past the length of my arm. The sky remained overcast, the ice beneath me extended to the distant horizon all around me, and I could see a set of mountains in the distance in front of me. Well... mark this date on the calender.

Oh, but it was. Leaving my dream the following morning, I could remember a distant roar of some great beast, and giant shadow beyond the cloudy sky, outlining a giant shape soaring in the heavens. I tried calling out ti it, but all I got in response was the same roar, then waking up to my alarm clock the next morning. It was so strange, but I put it on the back burner in my mind. There were stranger things happening out in the real world, and I was not going to let anything distract me.

After classes today, spaced throughout my morning and early afternoon, I had a whole evening free. It was a no-brainer how I was going to spend my free time. The Urahara Shouten's mysterious calling card was burning an impatient hole in my pockets.

AN: Whew... Sorry, people. XD Going to have to wait for the next chapter for the Urahara scene. Hope you liked this chapter! Please R&R about what you may or may not like.


	6. 6

In the Middle of the Night Arc, Chapter 5/?

After my monotonous classes were finally over for the day, Ichigo met me in our dorm. Instead of spending his free day out at the mall or some other such place with his friends, he waited for me. That would've been sweet if it didn't strike me as weird first. Last night really changed a lot between us. It's hard enough breathing correctly when he was actually around a few sparse nights, but now that we know what each other really are... Something tells me we'll be spending quite a bit of time together. My loins tell me that that's a good thing, my heart thinks otherwise.

I have to be extremely careful from now on. This presented a good opportunity to study Ichigo like I've always wanted, but at what price? If Ichigo finds out how I feel, if that deceptively cunning head of his figures me out before I want him to, there's no telling of what might happen. The pros and cons weighed too equally and too heavily for me. If I can't choose right now, I'd rather put it off until later when a more rational realization gives me the off-balance tip I need to take the according action. Right now, there's nothing to gain and everything to lose. He was the only one who knew of my power, and although I hate to admit it, it feels good having someone around that takes away the pressure. It's cliche, but it's the truth. I need his friendship now more than he even realizes.

He checked my injuries, reapplying the ointment and the bandages. They were starting to heal, but it would still take a few days. Without his help, healing would take several weeks, so I bypassed my grumbling and let him work, fiddling with the card that was in my pocket all afternoon. It was flipped over, turned around and read over twenty times before Ichigo declared himself finished with me. And on a note not heavier nor lighter, but relatively the same from when I walked in, we left. Grabbing coats and keys and wallets, we locked up and headed down the hall. A few of Ichigo's friends waved at him and tried to stop him to ask about his plans, but all he would give them was a brief greeting before continuing onward.

That struck me as a little weird and out of character for him, but then I think back what I knew before and what I knew now, and couldn't really bring myself to follow through with that feeling. It seemed like it was out of character, but was it really? That thought was worth continued contemplation... later.

Ichigo only had to take two main streets before leading us through a residential area. In reality, the trip only took about two hours, but it somehow felt too short for me. Neither of us spoke to each other. There wasn't anything to say. I had a ton of questions in my head, but there was nothing the oracle couldn't confirm himself. Ichigo usually filled that silence. And for the first time, I find myself wondering what he's thinking about...

Around one more corner and we were there. It was a quaint little setting. There was a vehicle on the side next to the one-story building. It was odd considering the buildings around it were two story apartments or higher. In the front yard were two children, sweeping the dust and dirt off the front porch of the store. Well, the brooms were out. It looked like the red-headed boy was more concentrated on pulling the girl's pigtails than chores.

"Yo! Jinta!" The boy paused in his yelling and pulling to look over at Ichigo. "Fetch Urahara, would ya?"

The boy, now identified as Jinta, scowled at the order. "No freaking way! Who are you to order me around? Besides, aren't you a little overdue on your freebies?"

Ichigo glared. "Just get him, Brat! I'm not his customer today, anyway!"

Jinta finally took notice of me. I merely gave him a blank stare. I got an odd vibe off this kid, but it was small. But something tells me that size doesn't matter. What the hell was up with me and cliches today? Whatever the case, as soon as Jinta was finished staring at me, he huffed and grumbled while he set aside the broom and went inside to do as my companion told him. Once he was gone, Ichigo's face softened as he looked to the girl and bowed slightly.

"Hello, Ururu." She curtsied. "Is Jinta picking on you again? You're the older one, aren't you? You should stand up for yourself more."

She violently shook her head. "Mr. Tessai scolds Jinta for it all the time. I don't, so I'm always off the hook."

Ichigo smirked and patted her head. "Yeah, but that's a waste, you're so much stronger than he is." She gave a tiny giggle and bashfully held onto her broom at the compliment.

That was all the small talk we made until Jinta came out... sporting a very large bump in the head. I had to resist the urge to lift an eyebrow at that. He wasn't alone, though. Following him was a large man with braided hair, a tan and in glasses. And after him was a blond man in a traditional green outfit, striped hat, clogs and cane. Not that he looked like he needed it. He didn't appear as old, but definitely in his thirties. And the vibes off him were coming off much stronger than either the boy or the girl.

Jinta was glaring at the large, tanned man while he collected his broom and sulked off to a corner to sweep his woes around. He must've been responsible for that bump. Can't say the kid didn't have it coming to him. He was a troublemaker.

Ururu bowed to the two men before returning to her sweeping. The man in the hat and clogs grinned widely as he held out his arms. "Ichigo! What a pleasant surprise!"

Ichigo rolled his eyes. "Stuff it, you knew I was coming."

Out from the folds of his robes, the blond snapped open a fan and hid half his face. "You know me so well, Kurosaki-kun. I also knew you didn't come alone." He looked at me. "It's nice to meet you, Hitsugaya-san. I've been waiting for you to come here ever since last night. Yoruichi told me much of you."

That name was unfamiliar to me. "Who?"

"You would know her as a large black cat."

Realization struck me. So that was it's, or rather her, name. "Do you know where she is? I haven't thanked her properly yet for saving my ass more than once in that fight."

"She's unfortunately on an important errand and won't back until later this evening. But I'll pass along the message." he gestured for the to follow him inside. "We came here for you, yes? Please come inside, I'm sure you have many questions."

We did as Urahara requested. Walking into the shop of candy and magazines, through the doors that led to the living area, we sat at a round table in a back room overlooking the backyard garden. Despite this being the place of a supernatural deity, his house looked relatively normal, which I found to be relieving. Modern media interpretations were way over the top.

The giant man came through the doors a few minutes later carrying a tray of tea and snacks. Urahara closed his fan to clasp his hands together and joyously smiled. "Tessai! How did you know when to brew tea? And just enough for all of us! I swear, you must be psychic what with all of your good timing!"

Ichigo glared. "Will you give it a rest?"

He chuckled with amusement at my roommates exasperated tone. "You're so easy, Kurosaki-kun." He then turned to his left, to me, and bowed politely. "I am Urahara, Kisuke. The oracle on your invite." He seemed shady to me on my first impression, but now he wasn't so bad. But then there was that big ego of his, and Tessai. The household was full of odd characters, and I couldn't bring myself to feel any better than when I first arrived. The vibes... rubbed my fur the wrong way, for lack of a better phrase.

I bowed in response, to at least appear courteous if nothing else. "Hitsugaya, Toshiro."

"So, what sort of errand is Yoruichi running? I was hoping to see the saner of you two today."

Urahara grinned. "She's out with Kurodo and Nova. The Master wanted it done and you know he comes first. Sorry she isn't here, but if it will make you feel better, Rinrin is here!" Ignoring his obvious attempts to not bother, Urahara opened his mouth wide and bellowed. "Rinrin! We have company!"

Barely a minute passed before a shape zoomed through the door, across the table, and onto the orange-top beside me, crying out in joy. "Iiiichiiiigooooo!"

I tried getting a better look at her and ended up thoroughly confused. It was a tiny yellow bird, draped in a blue raincoat and pupil-less eyes. He... she... it?...looked as if it could fit in the palm of my hand. Ichigo himself looked quite annoyed at the shopkeeper, but he pet the small creature on his chest anyway.

"Hello, Rinrin." He kept the malice from his voice and into his eyes, channeling it into a glare and the smiling blond. Said blond ignored him and smiled at me.

"You've come for answers, yes? Have you the proper payment?"

I was about decline. Ichigo never mentioned anything about a payment, but I did have a few yen on me. I'm sure I could compensate him. I'll make sure Ichigo pays me back. Not in money, but I'm sure I could think of something else. But I never got the chance to open my mouth let alone speak. A tap on my left hip had me looking to my right, to Ichigo and the bird that had migrated to his shoulder. Brown eyes directed me toward my pocket, and slowly my hand followed.

I pulled out the small bag, the same bag Ichigo stuffed full of my crystals. Oh. Ohh... I handed the bag over to him to him. He took it graciously, opening the drawstrings and pulling out a piece of it's contents. His face suddenly took on an awed expression, holding the glittering crystal up to the sunlight flowing in. It remained the same as it always was. Blood, dark red, frozen in a cast of blue ice.

Urahara let go of a low whistle. "Vampire blood frozen by the great dragon, Hyorinmaru. Now isn't that impressive." I didn't know it would be considered as such a treasure. Hyorinmaru was my family sword, passed from generation to generation. How did he know of it's existence? Were my ancestors involved in all of this? That's the only logical explanation I can think up right here on the spot, so it will definitely be a question to ask him. I would ask him right now, but he seems quite absorbed by the shiny in his hand.

"This is a very expensive payment, more than I can make up for. I will have to do something extra special for you." He emptied the rest of the pouch onto the table, where the four smaller shards glistened. "Four." It was a statement. An observation. A confirmation. then the shards were swept back into the pouch. "Rinrin." She dropped from her perch and saluted the Urahara. He held it out to her. "Please take this to Tessai."

"Yes sir!" She slung the drawstrings around her small frame and flew out the door, yelling once more at the top of her lungs. "Teeeessaaaaiiiii!"

After she was gone, that's when the really serious talking began. "Alright. You are free to ask me any questions you please. What would you like to know?"

That was a horrendously vague topic. Thankfully, I know where to start. With myself. "What am I?"

"You already know that answer."

"I want a second opinion."

"Then I agree with yours. And yes, Ichigo is who he says he is. I am who I say I am. So on and so forth." He chuckled. It was hard to tell if he was teasing me or just toying with me. I opted for the former option. I'm beginning to let Ichigo's usual temper and general bad attitude to affect even me.

"Then why did you invite me over here?" I was just one person, wasn't I? With special death powers, but anyone can have those right?

Urahara sipped his tea before answering. "Well, because I wanted to meet you, of course! Everyone keeps talking about you, so I thought I would see for myself what all the hubbub was about."

I furrowed my eyebrows in confusion. "Who keeps talking about me?"

"Yoruichi, Ichigo, various other people, etc..." He waved his hand in dismissal, as if it were the most casual thing for me to be gossiped.

I turned and glared at Ichigo, who was startled and leaned backward. "You talked about me?" Urahara chuckled.

"Well, in his defense, he wasn't the only one. Many people you have and haven't met have come to me speaking of you in their dreams. I figured I would invite you over. You seem to leave quite the impression on these people. I wondered if you would have the same on me." He opened his fan again. "And you seek answers, some of them only I can provide."

I frown at that. Somehow I find it very uncomfortable that people have been dreaming about me. My mind automatically wanted to think something dirty for that, but I knew what the oracle was saying. "What exactly do people dream of about me? Why me in the first place?" I could understand if there were a few infatuated people out there, my family is well-known. It wouldn't be the first time someone probably thought of me in that way, I would just prefer to remain blissfully unaware of it. My own thoughts are focus on school and Ichigo... and now this mess my powers seem to have got us caught up in.

"Well, Hitsugaya-san, frankly you have no control over what happens to you, your destiny is irreversible. However, you can rise to meet it. You have choices, and those choices will lead you to what happens next. When people with and without no magical power dream of the future, it is in their destiny, their future. They'll meet you one way or another, it's inevitable. Ichigo, Yoruichi, even I must admit to also dreaming of you. It depends on the type of person. Some people dream of seeing you, meeting you, being saved or saving you..."

I once again glance at Ichigo, who is sporting a face-eating blush right now. Ichigo dreamed of me? I wonder what I was doing there... I hope it's not anything grotesquely disconcerting. "You dreamed of me?" Ichigo stammered an affirmation. That's so cu- that's not cute! That's suspicious! What's he hiding from me?

"Ichigo is only one of many, so if someone comes up to you and asks you why you look so familiar, don't be surprised. For normal people with no magical ability to be able to spontaneously have premonitory dreams is a rare thing, and only if it is powerful. Toshiro, that is you. But I get the feeling this is only a slice. You should work on trying to control it more. You have only room to grow."

Finally, some of my tea went down my throat to calm me down. My nerves were starting to make my entire body shake at the overload of information he's giving me. He has so much knowledge to offer... "Are there... other people like me that I can train with?"

Urahara rubbed his chin. "Well... there is one other person, but he really isn't the type to be training anyone. I would rather you not train with him, or even meet him." I lifted an eyebrow at the serious tone in his voice, and in a second it was back to a playful grin. Weird. "Why don't you train with Ichigo? Surely he could be of some help...?"

The room stilled into shades of grey while that question cut through our heads. We were like shapeless statues while the blush steadily crept up my neck. Me work with Ichigo? That was the most brilliant statement to ever grace my drooling brain. But then, would he mind? He's the one with the social life. He has obligations towards his family, his friends, and this so-called Master I keep hearing about. Would he even be able to have time to help me, let alone even date me? The supernatural world was his world, not mine.

"I don't mind."

The quiet, nervous answer had me gawking at him. He would do that for me? Really? I had to ask in order to make sure I wasn't dreaming. "You would subject yourself to a battery of magical energy for the sake of my novel curiosity?"

He closed his eyes, a bright blush and large smile on his face. "Sure. We're friends, aren't we? I'll help you out whenever you need it, no problem."

I didn't think about how different our powers were. I didn't think about what might become of this partnership, or the consequences of learning my own metaphysical voodoo. All I could think of right then and there was how utterly happy Ichigo had made me, and I readily accepted. I may never get to know him as a lover, but I would never pass up this chance to dive a little more deeply into his private life, to see his secret person laid bare. I want to bury myself beneath the surface, the place I've been denied because we were merely roommates. Now, right now, I think I can finally call him a true friend and be completely genuine with that statement.

I bedazzled him with a smile, almost chuckling when he could do nothing but stare. "Thank you, Ichigo."

"Y-you are... very welcome." He bowed. Forget chuckling, I wanted to laugh outright. It was rare for me to smile, and even rarer for me to call him by name. I left him in that stupor to turn back to Urahara.

"Who is this Master person you guys speak of so often? Are you talking about the master of the city? And who would that be?" There. Bomb dropped. Ichigo's vegetable state was short-lived as Urahara's face grew from grin to grim. Did I ask something wrong?

"Yes," Urahara said, tapping his closed fan against the table in front of him. "That is the very same person we speak of. Just know that if you are going to be a part of the tales side to the city-coin, you will meet with him later. In fact, you will meet him tonight."

Ichigo's eyes widen in synchronicity with mine. "Tonight!"

He smiled again, snapping the fan open once more to hide behind, and made an uncool peace sign with his free hand. "Oh, but don't worry, you've got it covered! Which means you'll need to get presentable. Ichigo, I approve the outfit in advance!"

I crossed my arms. "Outfit?"

Ichigo nodded, choosing to respond this time. "The Master doesn't like anyone showing up without a certain amount of class. Your wardrobe doesn't have anything he would find tasteful, so we would have to go shopping." He then turned to Urahara. "Really, tonight? So soon?"

The blond nodded. "No doubt the clean-up crew already reported in with that kill Toshiro made. He will be sending invitations to your dorms right about now, so you should go shopping on your way home to save you the trouble."

"Hey, thanks!"

"No problemo... Oh! Tessai! You're back!"

The giant was indeed back carrying yet another tray, though this one didn't look like it was holding tea. Whatever was on it remained a mystery until he silently set the silver platter onto the table. Taking a humbled bow, he left. That guy didn't talk much, not once did I hear his voice... until I heard him call Jinta's name in anger. I swear that kid gets into more trouble that he's worth. And he couldn't be worth much in my book. Harsh, but the truth.

I looked at the tray, deciding to leave Jinta to his punishment for whatever reason, and focus on Ichigo and Urahara. That is the reason I'm here, after all. Spread out on the table before me were my five blood and blue crystals. Wait, didn't he take these as payment? Though there did seem to be something new about them. There was fishing wire pulled through each one at the tip and attached to a clasp in a makeshift necklace. There were no decorative beads, no fancy chains, just wire. What was he up to, now? "I'll give you a gift, now. These were offered up as payment to me, but I can't keep them. They are too priceless and too personal for me to own. So I'm giving them back to you... with an extra little something." He held his fan over them until the crystals began to glow. He didn't say or do anything fancy. He just stared at them with a small look of concentration for a few moments. Then he snapped his fan closed and nudged the tray to me. "There you go."

I inspected the larger crystal. "What did you do?"

"I infused them with my magic. Do you have a cross?" I shook my head. "Holy water?" Nope. "Then this will be it. This will be your object of faith. Faith in yourself. Channel your powers into that crystal, and you will be protected from harm. But only wear the larger one! The four smaller ones are for the people you care about or are loyal to the most, but not immediate family. It will guard them, point out hidden enemies, and find each other. It is capable of so much more, but I will leave that for you to discover. You must given these to them personally. Wear it as often as you can"

I nodded absently, watching the crystal in my hand give out an extra shine. I didn't know how to activate it, or use it, but I was sure I could figure that out. "Thank you," I said, snapping it into place around my neck. It rested coolly against my chest, dormant in spite of the the huge power surge it had just received. I put them all back into the pouch. All but one. The pouch went back into my pocket, safe and snug against my hip. The last crystal I laid in my hand, thinking how to go about this situation without making it look so embarrassing. Such a thing didn't exist, so I decided to be blunt.

I stretched my hand out to Ichigo. "I think it's pretty obvious that one of these goes to you."

Ichigo took the small thing from my hand, his warm hands brushing against- okay, enough with the details about a simple exchange! It was a hand making contact with a hand, nothing more! "Thanks," he replied, fastening it around his neck. Hmm, it looks kind of nice on him.

"Well then, don't you guys look handsome! Anyway, let this be our gift of parting! I have a lot to do, and so do you! It's already getting dark out, so I'll be happy to walk you guys out. Hitsugaya-kun, if you need me again, just keep that card, okay?" I nodded. "Excellent. This way, then."

There were still many more questions I wanted to ask him, but they could all wait. If we had to go meet the master, I at least prefer not to be on his bad side at first impression. Everyone seems to have total devotion to him. That remains to be seen with me. I can respect a guy, but I can't promise anything beyond that.

We said good-bye to everyone(and a good riddance to Jinta) as we made our way to the front of the store and out onto the streets. Dusk was fast approaching, and the streetlights were starting to turn on. Ichigo walked a little ahead of me as we took a route different from what we used earlier. Instead of a left he went right, taking us a few side streets down until we hit a set of busy streets. The entire trip only took an hour, but it felt only half that time. Maybe It was because my head was stuck in the clouds because I was too busy paying attention to Ichigo's backside. Whatever the case, the time seemed shorter than it was.

My roommate led us to a hole in the wall, the entrance to a small alley. It was concealed, but easily ignored by most. The short walkway was lined with shops, varying from tattoos to jewelery, to an arcade. And the people loafing around didn't look like the best of company, but my mouth behaved itself and stayed shut. Only when we reached the the appropriate store did I utter a complaint.

We stood in front of a display window that showcased... a large amount of leather, lace, silk and vinyl. The mannequins were posed indecently, and there were accessories wrapped around their heads, necks, wrists, waists and ankles. The store's name was in bold letters across the window.

"You have got to be kidding me..."

Ichigo frowned at me in confusion. "What?"

I pointed to the store window. "Ash Cat?"

He shrugged. "That is it's name, yes. I usually get my clothes here. This is the style the Master finds most appealing. I told you, we were going shopping because you have none of this in your wardrobe. I couldn't fit you into any of my stuff, it'd be to big. So you're going to have to put that pout away and deal. Besides, the people in here really aren't that bad. I'm sure they can find something that wouldn't be as bad as the stuff I wear. Then we can go to the dorm to change and then head to Hueco Mundo."

Yet another unfamiliar name to me. It's alright, though. I'm getting kind of used to it. "Hueco Mundo? What is that?"

"It's where the master resides. Now let's go in so we can get it over and done with as quickly as possible. Okay?" Sighing, I followed him in. I didn't have a choice. He held the big, oak door open for me as I tried not to stomp up the shop's steps. I didn't have to look behind me to know that Ichigo was grinning. Why does he find my pain so amusing? Sadist.

The store didn't look as bad as I thought it would. Racks were neatly stacked with clothes across the available floor space, accessories were lining the wall, and various mannequins dotted around with mix-matched outfits. Aside from the over-excessive use of pink, it was within tolerable taste. How could Ichigo get his stuff from here? This was a women's store, so why were we here?

Before I could get my answer, we were bombarded by pink blurs. Or, more accurately, Ichigo was assaulted. He was standing in front of me, effectively shielding me from the onslaught of boobs and hair and pink. My personal knight in shining armor. But on the other hand, those girls were still clinging to him, one around his leg and the other shoving his face into her... bosom. Why were they so happy to see him? just what sort of people did he hang out with? One of them looked too young, but if he was dating the taller girl, I didn't here anything about it. That thought was a little weird, considering he talks to me about a lot of stuff, including the girls that captured his interest. I just decided to stand by quietly and wait for an introduction.

The girl chest-planting his face into her chest eventually let go, but the pink-haired girl on his leg wouldn't relent. She seemed a little angry with him, too. "Ichi! Where have you been?"

"School." Was his voice flat?

"Oh, why do you bother! It's just a cover-up, why do you give it so much attention? It's not like you'll need it!"

"It's a family thing." Yeah, that was flat.

"But Ichiii~! I wanna play with you more!"

"I can't right now."

"Aww... you're never around! And when you do, you're always busy! I'm seriously going to break up you if this keeps up!" Excuse me, but could you repeat that? I don't think I heard that correctly...

"Yachiru, stop pestering Ichigo!"

"But Rangiku, he's being a mean and unfaithful boyfriend! Just look at the garbage he trailed in!"

I felt my eyebrow twitch as she pointed a finger at me. What made her think Ichigo and I were together like that? Why did she think I was a tramp? How the hell did a girl her age even know words like that? And why was in she in a store like this?If I had to estimate bye her looks alone, I would've guessed her to be around five. Short pink hair, big eyes and only coming up to Ichigo's knee, I would have no trouble calling her cute if it weren't for her language. The Lolita outfit would've made her even cuter if that face of hers didn't scowl so hard it made her look like a pink, wrinkly newborn.

I've come to several conclusions. If I wanted any sort of relationship with Ichigo, she was going to make things very difficult on me. Child crushes never ended well. I would either have to butter her up to like me, or I would have to get rid of her. Heh, the memories of my last battle flitted through my head and that inner joke just lost its taste. Already it was starting to get hard to joke about it, even if it was just to myself. I wonder how long will it take for the knot in my gut to unwind.

The other woman finally took notice of me, a grin splitting her face. It took a vast amount of will power to not hide behind the Ichigo-shaped shield oh-so-conveniently placed in front of me. Her face was pleasant enough; strawberry blond hair, light blue eyes, and a mole that would make Cindy Crawford jealous. Despite a small phobia of the monstrosity of her chest, what worried me even more was her aura. Both of them seemed off, and that made me uneasy.

"Yachiru. I'm too old for you. And you shouldn't say things like that about people you don't even know. You should apologize to Toshiro..." Ichigo's scolding made me want to smile, but I know she won't accept it by the way she's sticking out her tongue at him. I didn't know whether to think that cute or annoying.

"Hello! I'm Matsumoto Rangiku!" The greeting had my attention refocused on her. For a moment, the fear of being squished into her boobs almost made me take a step back. Almost. She leaned down to my level, something people often did that I hated, but was too polite to say anything, and offered me her hand. "It's nice to finally meet you, Hitsugaya-san."

I took her had. She may have a suspicious aura, but she seemed like a nice person in general. "Nice to meet you, too."

She smiled and pointed over that the two children arguing. "That's Yachiru. Don't worry about her, she's a very good girl once you get to know her. Other than your small infatuation with Ichigo, I don't think you two will have any trouble with getting along."

I narrowed my eyes at her. "You picked up on that, already?"

Her smile downsized into a smirk. "We women are extra-sensitive to these types of things." That bitch. "Yachiru picked up on it, too, otherwise she wouldn't be hounding Ichigo like this." She winked and held up her index finger to me. "Don't worry, though. Your secret is safe with me. It's so interesting to see relationships develop!"

I'll trust her for now, but I didn't like that last statement in the least!

"Yachiru, get off me."

"No! You'll go away again!"

"How can I go away when I just got here?"

"Don't play me, I know what you're up to! The moment you get a chance, you'll sneak into one of the back rooms at Hueco Mundo with that twat over there, and then there'll be no more of you and me!"

"Yachiru!"

It didn't look like either of them were going to stop anytime soon, so that left the shopping up to me. The latest fashions escape me, but I wear regular-enough clothes to get a passing grade. Thankfully Rangiku seemed to have a more level head than those other two. It shouldn't be any trouble to get her to help me, since that was her job. But then again, did she also know of this Master of the City? If she didn't, it could pose a problem for me. Then again, everyone I've met, who were acquaintances of Ichigo, all seemed to know about the big bad around town. I decided to take a gamble and see where it leads me.

I crossed my arms over my chest and looked up at her. "So..." I had her rapt attention. "I'm looking for an outfit for tonight."

She tilted her head in curiosity. "Tonight, huh? That's quite the short notice. What do you need?"

I resist the urge to look away and scratch my head in embarrassment. "Yes, Ichigo took me here because we're supposed to go meet someone..."

"Oh! You mean the Master?" Yep, my intuition had been correct. "Yes! I've got just the thing!"

She dashed around the store several times, picking up things here and there. I watched, impressed with how much speed she was getting with her... top-heavy form. I saw a few things she grabbed, including a skirt, a corset and a studded collar, that made me clench my jaw. Otherwise a babbling fountain of word-vomit might cascade from my brain-dead mouth. No other description could be put into words of just how awful I might've sounded.

Finally, she tossed me into a changing room and threw the clothes at me. "I'll be standing right here, so if you need help or advice, then let me know." Then she almost slammed the door on me. That. Woman. Was. Scary.

Well, time to get to work. I tried on the first outfit, but it was a no-go. There were too many laces strung up the sides, and somehow, red just isn't my color. The second outfit had the skirt, leggings and half-cropped top, and was immediately tossed into the 'declined' pile. The third outfit had a corset, which didn't even get a second glance, but the leather pants were cool. I could get used to those. That was my first 'yes' item. Outfit by out fit, we weeded through the better ones, occasionally taking Rangiku's advice on what looked good on me. Not very creative yet, but having to meet the Master on a regular basis, I need to start learning.

Only seven of the things she picked out for me were kept, that was a good number to start off with when one was changing the style of their wardrobe. Rangiku had a little shopping basket on her arm and I was putting the clothing in there while she looked to her left. "Ichigo and Yachiru are still going at it, so let's keep what you buy a secret for now..." She then grinned broadly at me. "Let's go get you some accessories!" Joy.

Three belts, two collars, a choker, several chains, and a couple of cuffs later, she was ringing me out. I signed up for a frequent customer rewards program, which got me a twenty percent discount, and then everything was swept into one large bag for me to carry home. It wasn't as heavy as the size deceived it to be. Rangiku said Ichigo should carry it for me, but that was immediately declined. I gave her no reason, but the blush trying to peek through on my face was self-explanatory.

Suddenly, a couple of interesting questions came to mind. Giving my eyes a break from the dramatic scene the two kids were displaying, they turn to the person next to me. "Rangiku..." I would've said her last name, but she gave me a very convincing threat that the next time her first name did not come out, she would pop my head like a cherry with those melons. To stay wise, alive and heathy was the broken-record motto in my head for the next few minutes.

"Yes?" she asked, turning me politely.

"Have you... dreamed of me?" That sounded weird, I hope she doesn't take that the wrong way.

She frowned, looking down at the floor so her bangs hid her face. "Yes. Just a few days after you moved in with Ichigo, actually." She wrapped her arms around her waist, rolling her head sideways to think back what she was saying. "Truthfully, I didn't know who you were. No one said your name in my dream. It was very distracting, but no one picked up on it until Ichigo came along. But when I described it to Ichigo for the first time, he knew who I was talking about, because he had one, too."

"What did you dream about?"

She planted her hands on her hips, thinking deeply. "I can't say for sure, it was a while ago... But I think we were in the middle of a battle. You told me to get down right before a blast of magic was sent my way." She grinned at him. "You came to my side and countered that magic with your own. You were my hero. Thanks a bunch."

Not knowing how to respond to that, considering there were no dreams about her, I replied to her last sentence. "Your welcome." Another question entered my head and out of my mouth, bypassing my brain-to-mouth filter altogether and completely making me look nosy and selfish.

"What did Ichigo dream about?"

She shrugged. "I don't know, he wouldn't say." She laid a hand on my shoulder. "But if he did, I still wouldn't have been able to tell you. That will just have to be something he says on his own. Okay?" Yes, I could see the point in that. She would strike me as someone being completely loyal to all of her friends, no matter if they were fighting. I really like her personality. She's got spunk.

The trek back to the dorms was spent on my inner thoughts. Getting Yachiru separated from Ichigo was quite the chore, so it took close to an hour. The little brat called me more derogatory names, but I let them roll off. Ichigo knows that they aren't true, so they didn't bother me. What I would like, if I could get away with it, is a really good way to shut her up. Ichigo wouldn't want to stage a make-out session with me, he didn't seem that type of person. If he kissed someone, he would want it to mean something. Another part of me wanted to just smack some sense into her. Geez, hormonal much? I'm acting so possessive when he isn't even mine! I must be the most horrible person in the world, itemizing him when he truly doesn't belong to anyone but himself! Never really figured myself to be the jealous type, yet when we were in the store, that's just the feeling: possessive of Ichigo and jealous of Yachiru.

Someone must hate me. I do not like all these feelings rolling around inside me, causing typhoons, hurricanes and tsunamis with my mentality. Ichigo, this is all his fault. The young Hitsugaya heir was better off not having any friends, and then an orange-top came along in his stupid charade and got the handsome man all confused and lonely and interested. Tch, the story of my life. Damn dreams, their meanings, and fate altogether. Damn them!

Coming across our room, we noticed the door slightly ajar, the light from within streaming out into the dark hallway. A normal person would think someone broke in and had stolen everything, the very first thing to come to my mind until realization dawned on me. My life was anything but normal, that both Ichigo and I had to continue very cautiously in case there was something unwelcome waiting for us in there. Fortunately, Ichigo was seasoned with the supernatural. Unfortunately, I was not, which made him the ideal person to walk in first. We didn't know what to expect, and that did not sit well with me. Kicking Ichigo into that room seemed like a better choice than this little stand-still we've come across.

Ichigo stood in front of me, not protectively, but definitely there to take anything that might be hurled our way. He opened the door, the light growing brighter as the room before us was revealed. Our room was like it had been when we left, except for one displacement, which sat on the couch drinking tea from a can and watching the television. And that person was...

"Hinamori?"

Believe it or not, that was Ichigo's voice. She turned, blushed, and stood up, her outfit swaying with the movement of her body. She'd changed, no longer dressed in the Hello Kitty, but an airy, red dressed that flowed around her like water. She put her tea on the coffee table and turned off the channel that was on. She bowed to us in greeting, but my mind was on the bigger questions, like how she managed to get in here and why she was here, and how did she know I lived here in the first place?

"G-good evening, Kurosaki-kun! Hitsugaya-kun! I'm here to extend an invitation from the Master of the City, Aizen Sousuke."

A/N: Please review? =3


	7. 7

In the Middle of the Night Arc: Untitled Preface 6/?

I stood silent, not trusting myself to say anything about Momo's sudden appearance in our dorm room. There had been no sign of life from her since grandmother died, the summer after our last year of primary school, and now I lay eyes on her twice only a few days apart. That might have come off as nothing more than a coincidence to most people, but with recent events still resonating in my head, I knew better than to pass it off as just being a small world. And Ichigo confirms my hesitation with his next statement.

"So the king sends us his very own Princess Peach? That's generous." Unfathomable... Since when did Ichigo know her nickname from when she was younger? She must've been used to it, might have even told him about it herself. It was a common reference everyone made and she was showing no signs of embarrassment. There was only the slightest upturn from the corner of her lips. "You mind waiting for a sec while Toshiro and I change?"

She giggled and politely raised a hand to cover her smiles. "We still have a bit of time before we have to be at Hueco Mundo." Her cheerful voice was almost lyrical to my ears. "And since I'm with you, there is no punishment to any sort of tardiness."

My roommate gave her a short, curt nod before walking stiffly to his room. My efforts to mentally scold him for his cold and rude behavior were cut off as his closing door echoed through the room. We were left alone with no other noise except for muffled shuffling courtesy of my moody orange head. Instead of following his lead and getting my ass dressed, my feet stood rooted to the spot. I doubted this was the time for long-awaited, heart-felt chats, but I needed at least a small moment alone with her.

So many new experiences were rushed at me in the last few days, and at overwhelming speeds, but none of that mattered. At this moment, standing in this room, all that mattered was the girl in front of me. Many questions popped into my head, but one was prominent above them all. Was this Aizen person the one she was talking about that day at the mall? Part of me thought so, and another smaller part of me was hoping and wishing it were someone else, someone obscure and normal, two things that seemed not to be the day's theme. Yeah, not the most logical part of me.

Momo turned sad eyes to me, and she looks about ready to cry. She must have been able to take a guess at what I was feeling right now. I wasn't glaring, or even frowning. My face was probably blank. But she always did have an uncanny insight to my own inner tumbling emotions, as if I were wearing my heart on my sleeve, and I couldn't tell if it was that woman's intuition they always talk about, or if it was due to our long childhood friendship. Her hands folded behind her, back straight and head slightly bowed as she stared at me. She had a lot of explaining to do, and if she wanted to start now, I was willing to listen. It would do me no good to keep my face blank, so I tried to soften my features as best I could. A lot of emotion towards a close friend always had me straining to keep my cool, so why try to keep it inside if they already knew you wanted to lose it?

"Shiro-chan... I'm so sorry I didn't tell you earlier!" A rush of tears came to her eyes as she bowed hastily in apology. "By now, you should know that I'm not normal," -understatement- "and I know people who aren't normal," -bigger understatement- "but please believe me when I say I'm still Hinamori Momo!"  
Tears were dripping to the floor as her emotional outburst echoed off the living room walls. That pestering quietness took hold again as she silently cried. She stayed in her bowed position, her body shaking with sadness and fear as she awaited my response. What did she have to be afraid of me for? It was just me, Toshiro, her childhood friend that had missed her for a long time. Did she think that I wouldn't like her friends? That I wouldn't have liked her choices? That I wouldn't like... her?

Realization hit me like a seasoned boxer's right hook. How utterly ridiculous.

A number of questions popped up. How did she get mixed into all of this? Why did she accept this kind of life? Did she even have a choice, or did someone influence her? Was it Aizen who did it? Immediately, they were shoved back into a dark corner. The questions took to the back burner. Right now, I wanted to comfort my childhood friend, my adorable sister, the other half of my often misunderstood soul. We were like twins, she and I, and the one person whose tears I couldn't stand seeing. Especially if those tears were because of me.

I went to stand next to her, poking a finger at the top of her bun-head. I poked her twice, causing her to gasp and stand up straight, looking at me with wide and hopeful eyes. But instead of answering her silent questions, I pulled her into a tight hug. This was the most important thing to me right now.

"We will have a long and detailed conversation about what's going on and how all of this came about, but don't think for a single minute that I would be angry with you. Okay?" She nodded against my shoulder, body shaking as she cried with relief. Those had been the exact words she needed to hear.

I let her go, handing her my handkerchief -pulled from a random pocket- to dry her face. "Grams said a crying face is unattractive." I placed a kiss at her temple. "I'm going to go get changed before Ichigo comes out and scolds me for being so slow."

She giggled as we said at the same time "Drama Queen." I smirked, hearing Ichigo's muffled response. "I heard that!" Shaking my head, I patted Momo on the shoulder and headed off to my room with my shopping bags. "And touch up you make-up. Your mascara's dripping." She gasped comically, hands flying to her face before running off to the nearest bathroom. Still a girl, through and through.

It only took me a moment to take the garments out of my bag. I was stuck, looking at everything Rangiku picked out for me laying across my bed. They ranged a little in styles, and being the completely fashion-behind person I am, I was completely at a lost for what to do. Best scenario, just throw things on and hope that they match? Ichigo would kill me. I should ask for his help, but I somehow felt the need to impress him by dressing myself. I've never worn these sorts of things before. Black on black on black matches, right? An image popped up inside of my head with him crossing his arms in an X in front of him. "Wrong" would be his response, I'm almost sure of it.

Thankfully, my fretting mind was given mercy by the knock at my door. Hoping that my good fortune actually existed, I opened it with one hundred percent certainty that it was Momo. It wasn't Momo. Great. There goes my dignity. It's drifting farther and farther away, waving a white handkerchief of farewell, off to never-come-back land. Good-bye. I'll miss you, too. Take care and don't forget to write.

"Toshiro, we have to get going soon. You're still not dressed?"

How the hell am I supposed to turn this around so I don't look like a complete fool in front of Ichigo? I crossed my arms in front of me and looked to the side, away from his eyes. If I was going to let out a small fib, I can't do it face-to-face. That's one of my annoying habits. "These clothes are completely not like me, so I'm procrastinating." That... was actually the partial truth. I can't even lie when I'm facing away from him!

I peeked at his face from the corner of my eye. He was smirking at me, a fond look in his half-lidded browns. He looked like he was remembering something, or stuck in some sort of daydream. I couldn't help but wonder who I had reminded him of, his face was starting to scare me. Not because his face was unpleasant, but because of the wide range of deep-felt emotions that were seeping out of it. The mirth in his smile and sad downward tilt of his head were nothing compared to the strange sight in his eyes. Strange, because he'd only looked at me once or twice with that same look, the one look that I couldn't identify. It frustrated me to no end and I had to physically bite my tongue, but I kept myself in stride.

After growing a bit uncomfortable with the silence, I reached up and snapped my fingers in front of his face, and the look was gone in an instant. "Are you back to the present Earth, yet?" Those smooth, natural lips slitted into a grin, showing a perfect row of white teeth that looked strong enough to rip into metal. I wondered how it would feel if he ripped into my-

"I'm fine." His voice was hurried, and a little shaky. Oops. Did I do something? "Let's just get you dressed, yeah? What have you got?" He didn't wait for my reply, and he forced his way past me. He let go of my wrist, and I could feel the warmth evaporating off my skin at the loss of contact. Am I shivering?

Leaving my door open and keeping my arms crossed, I went to lean against the wall, waiting for Ichigo's verdict on Rangiku's shopping choices. I wasn't really thinking about much when I got those, but I was thinking enough to exclude all those... extreme pieces. Perhaps I should pay more attention. Did I really buy that shirt? Did she sneak those stockings into my bag? I don't remember that collar being so spiky...

Ichigo hummed before looking back at me. "Where is your shirt, the one with the dragon on it?" The one the head butler gave me for my birthday the previous year? I pointed to the closet. He'd surprised me with that one. I didn't know he would be able to remember me having that. I wore it only once, and that was because laundry day was later than it should have been. Ichigo may be considered "good" with fashion, but I doubted he was -that- good.

He threw the leather pants at me. "Go and get it."

Giving him a mock-salute, I walked off to my closet. It was one of my favorite shirts, which is why I don't wear it too much. I'm too afraid it would get messed up. Not to say that I'm a messy person, I trust myself completely. It's everyone else I'm weary about. That story-time tale of personal experience will have to wait for another day, though.

I walked into my closet and pulled on the mentioned shirt; a white, silk vest with an ice-blue dragon embroidered on the back. I buttoned most of the front, but I left a couple of buttons open at my neck, which also showcased the ice shard at my throat. I would hide it, but I hate clothing that restricted my neck.

After tripping over myself several times while getting the pants on, I left the closet and shuffled my way slowly into Ichigo's sight. The shirt was very comfortable, but the pants have much to be desired. They clung to my waist, butt, legs and certain other places, which kind of worried me about my circulation. I wasn't blushing, was I? Glancing at my reflection in the window, no, I was safe. Confirming my stoicism, I turned to gauge Ichigo's reaction.

Well, isn't that a lovely face? I smirked. "Flies will flock to that wide open, drooling trap of yours if you leave it hanging like that." Or at least I thought so. It was always something my mother told me whenever I had a similar expression.

It worked like a charm, and Ichigo coughed into his hand and straightened his posture. "Yes, well... You look fine. You should pass the master's expectations."

I frowned. "Goody. I'm so glad he'll be pleased." That would be sarcasm, my friends, in case I wasn't obvious enough. I don't understand what's so important about this Master of the City? What kind of power did he hold over everyone here? Was it affection? Fear? Or really good undead politics? In any case, I wasn't really looking forward to this little meeting. I didn't want to accidentally say or do anything to piss anyone off. Except for my ties with Ichigo and Momo, I was going in blind.

Action/Adventure newbies: that's bad.

Momo... Somehow I had to survive the night before I schedule that talk I promised her. And what a talk that will be. I'm betting a lot of things will get cleared up, so... Why am I dreading it more than our meeting with Aizen? Granted, this master didn't strike me as being easy to meet with, but I didn't know him, and I wouldn't be surprised if my naivety sent us down the wrong path. I'm sure Ichigo and Momo would try to protect me, but to what extent? Would they be willing to kill their master for my sake? Would I be willing to take responsibility for my own actions, and kill him myself? That question was still up in the air. Koga's death was still fresh in my mind everytime I wasn't otherwise occupied.

I'm going to have to face it sooner or later. The death of another was nothing to sneeze at. Sure he may have been a vampire, but to me... He seemed real and alive enough to kick my ass around the block. Several times. I needed to get a grip on myself. What was I doing? Momo adored Aizen. Others speak highly of him. And although I could see the distaste at having to answer to someone, Ichigo was deeply intertwined with him and everyone else. These two people were the people I cared for the most. I was not going to be the cause for what people would call a supernatural apocalypse. I made a silent promise to try and be on my best behavior, for their sakes more than my own.

While my thought process was busy making this silent vow, Ichigo was silently accessorizing me; a chain here, a winding cord there, a white belt cutting off more of my circulation... It wasn't until after momo poked her head into my room did I rouse myself from my thoughts. She beamed, make-up once again perfect.

"It's time to go."

Good. The pout on Ichigo's face told me he had more plans for my appearance, and he won't let it go. "But Peachy... I was going to do his make-up..." Oh. No.

Momo saved me yet again with another giggle. "He looks fine. Besides, there is no way you will be able to get anything on his face while he isn't chained down to anything. You'll lose those skillful fingers of yours!"

Ichigo grumbled unhappily and started putting everything away, letting me off the hook with a free breath of air. Momo was a Goddess of Light that needed to be gifted with shiny, expensive things, and the love and happiness of people everywhere. Do I know how to praise people or what? Not that I was going to tell her any of this. She would probably cash in on all that love and attention when she would need a favor. She was devious like that. Her innocent response would be "but Toshiro, remember you said this so-and-so ago, I thought you meant it, but if you really didn't... I guess I would understand." And then she would get teary eyes -that I knew were fake- and a disappointed pout... And dear me, I would cave. This has happened on more occasions that I could count when we were younger. Something told me that all these years didn't change her, that she would still use that tactic today.

Well, there was definitely one way to thank her, now was the perfect time. I reached into my discarded pants for my drawstring bag. Momo and Ichigo were the two people most deserving of these. I was thinking about waiting until after tonight, but not knowing what lay ahead, I wasn't going to take anymore chances.

Her fingers brushed mine as she took the pendant from my outstretched hand. "Toshiro... It's so pretty..." She lifted a worried expression from the shard to me. "Are you sure you want to give something so personal to me?"

I blinked at her. That's a silly question... "You've been my only friend until now. I consider you a part of me, my twin. Why -wouldn't- I give it to you?"

It looked like she was about to cry, and I had to momentarily wonder if I had said the wrong thing, because I never wanted to be the cause of tears like those. But that line of panic disappeared as she enveloped me in a tight embrace.

"Thank you! It means a lot to me that you would give something like this! I promise I'll treasure it and take good care of it!" I returned the gesture, patting her back a little before letting her go, and she immediately went to put it on. It was beautiful on her, and it stood out against her dress. Ichigo came over, looking at the tiny piece of ice laying against the hollow of her neck.

"There's something not quite right with this picture..."

Momo and I both glance curiously at him. Was he nuts? If I weren't gay, Momo would probably be my childhood sweetheart! Sure, men attract me, but that doesn't mean I can't appreciate another woman's beauty. Momo made an adorable, and kinda sexy picture. There would be no trouble with getting attention, male or female, so I had to wonder what he meant by that.

She smiled and tilted her head to look up at him. "What do you mean?"

Gently, he took her hand and led her into the bathroom, standing her dead center of the mirror. The confused look never left her face, until his next action. With a single twist of his wrist, Momo's hair tie snapped loose. Her hair fell in a shine of brown, framing her face, neck, shoulders... Dare I say it... Ichigo had been right. This looks even better!

He smiled. "Aizen sure is lucky." Her face grew so red, I thought there might be steam coming out of her ears. This was classic... Where was my camera? He hugged her from behind, and I was awestruck at the powerful picture of those two. She tried hiding her blush with her hands, but considering how pale her hands were in comparison, she failed to hide all of the red.

Unfortunately, the moment eventually had to end. With little time left on the clock, the lights were turned off, the door was locked, and we were making our way to the underground parking garage. Ichigo and Momo chattered to each other on the way to the car, mainly with him complimenting her and her blushing and scolding him back. I couldn't bring myself to say anything, so I listened intently to their banter.

"Seriously, one of these days, someone else is going to snatch you up because you're so cute and irresistible."

"Ichigo, stop! Aizen wouldn't like that! You know what would happen to them if they tried to challenge him for my affection... Don't wish for such dreadful things!"

"I didn't say I wished for it, just that I think it's gonna happen at some point. Have you ever thought of trying to be ugly? Stop shaving, gain a few pounds, possibly chop off all that pretty hair..."

Momo shook her head in immediate decline. "I would never do something like that! Personal hygiene is important!"

"I'm not saying become a troll, just look less pretty so that he can share with the rest of the class!"

"I cannot believe I am hearing all these things from you! Where is this coming from?"

"Actually, I'm trying to get Toshiro's goat and make him jealous. Is it working?"

She looked back at my blank face with a confused frown. "Nope."

"Damn." He started digging around his pockets for his keys. Great, we're taking the jeep...

"Why are you trying to do that? All he's going to do is go big-brother-protective on me, and you'll end up in the hospital."

I stopped listening, not really interested in his answer. He was probably trying to win a bet or something. It seemed the type of thing he would do. Then again, he's kept me surprised the last few days. He was a fucking witch! All those times I thought he was a somewhat-idiot artist who didn't know how to keep his nose out of other peoples' business, mine included. And that wasn't him at all. Bit by bit, layer by layer, his shells are cracking. I wondered how long it would take before they were completely open, before he allowed me to see the real person he was, shelled to his very core. In some ways, he was just as guarded as me, which is why I wasn't very good at reading him. It was interesting to have the tables turned. This must be what it feels like when people failed to crack me open.

The black Wrangler flashed its lights as Ichigo took off the alarm, the dark lot brightening momentarily and causing us to shield our eyes. There were lights set in the garage, but they were all dim and embedded too far into the ceilings. Opening the doors gave us a little more light as he helped Momo into the front seat and I hopped -literally- into the back. I've only seen this car before, so I was slightly giddy to finally ride in it. The wind would probably mess up my hair, but Ichigo would be the one to complain about that before I would.

They told me several things about the meeting on the way, though the wind did make it slightly harder to hear. Do not look in the Master's eyes directly. Try not to offend the shifters and other guards present. Make sure to be armed. When I told them I had left Hyorinmaru at home, Ichigo told me that was fine for now, that we would work on summoning him from a distance later. I was perplexed at what he meant, but I didn't have time to think about it. Momo gave me a wakizashi to strap to my hip in case things get... rough. I didn't like the sound of it, but I didn't ask. I already had an idea of what 'rough' might entail.

They also told me to be on my best behavior, not really knowing that this command had already been issued in my head. I think they would worry over me if they knew half the things that went on in this noggin of mine. Like they say, there's always a blurry line between genius and madness. You don't know where one begins and the other ends. I'm sane, at least I'd like to think so. There are many other people would think differently if they got caught up in what I've gotten into.

The jeep pulled into an ally, and from there a parking lot. We were in the downtown area, where the night life thrived with various clubs and bars. The lot was large, allowing several business to let their employees safely lock their vehicles. Yeah, it wasn't the best of neighborhoods at night, but you bet me one city that is, and I'll hand you Lady Liberty, herself.

Ichigo led us the the building in front of us, which must've been Hueco Mundo. According to them, it was a dance, strip and open mike club, depending on the date. It could be a water polo club, for all I cared. The bald security guy at the door waved his hand, a lazy "yo" at us told me he did not like his current position, but he stuck with it because orders were orders. Maybe someone should tell him he was a bodyguard for vampires, he might change his occupation.

He looked like he wanted to say something when I passed by him, and even opened his mouth, but one look at my unhappy face shut him up. I had a mind to know what he was thinking. If it was anything along the lines of "children weren't welcome" then I would've punched him in the gut. Besides, he let Momo in just fine. Was he wearing red eye shadow? Scratch the gut, I'd have aimed lower. Silently, and calmly changing my glare to a stoic stare, I followed the other two inside. I had no idea where I was going, so I needed to stick with them if I didn't want to get lost.

They were chatting again, not really paying me any mind, as if I had walked these halls before and all was right in their world. That was okay with me, because their conversations highly entertained me.

"-but that's just wrong..."

"Ichi~! It's not wrong to love octopus! It tastes great!"

"-Please- don't whine at me like that... You sound like Yachiru..."

"Well, maybe if you weren't mean all the time..."

"I'm -not- mean -all- the time!"

"With her, you are."

"Well, if she weren't insulting Toshiro and clinging to me all the time, I would be a little easier on her."

Momo blinked. "She's met Shiro-" It's about time I intervened.

"You finish that sentence, Momo, and I disown you."

Her voice squeaked at my interruption, caught with her hands red. She glanced back at me, sweat-dropping with a nervous smile. "Wh-... what do you mean?"

I crossed my arms. "You know what I mean."

Ichigo looked between us, confused. "I -don't- know what you mean..." He poked Hinamori, rather than ask me, since he knew he'd get nothing out of me. I tried to glare her into silence, but she just smirked again. My threats were empty, and she knew it, so they fell on deaf ears as she proceeded to inform my roommate of my long-time nickname. I turned away, taking in our surroundings for the first time.

We were stalled in the middle of a stairway, the distant thundering of a heavy bass vibrated against the walls and our voices were echoing around the empty walls. Aside from the exit sign at the doorway and the lights, nothing else adorned the plain ceiling.

"Shiro-chan, ne? I wonder how much pain I'd be experiencing if I used that..."

Momo giggled. "I'm the only one that gets away with it because he loves me so much." She turned to me and winked. "Right?" No.

Ichigo chuckled, something that gave my ears an orgasm no matter how many times he did it. "Let's get going. I want to get this over and done with."

He was speaking my language. Momo led the way, holding the railing as she hopped her way down the rest of the stairs. Ichigo decided to take a more languid pace, leaving me with a clear view of his swaying backside. Yes, for some reason, he was swaying his hips. You'll get no complaints from me. He wore light jeans, but they hugged him in all the right places, and they were ripped beyond recognition. Part of me wonder how they managed to stay on and cover him, but the studded white belt answered that silent question. It's a miracle I managed to tear my gaze away from those pants long enough to notice.

I caught part of a tattoo peeking out from underneath his red tank top, just over his right shoulder. Since when did he get that? I saw him nearly naked quite a few times, but I never saw that. I couldn't make out what it was, but I didn't have time to study it further. At the bottom of the staircase was an unmarked door, and Hinamori was waiting, holding onto the handle and ready pull as soon as we caught up. With a gleeful smile, she yanked it wide open.

The music, which had been gradually increasing in volume, flared through the open door. This noise didn't strike me as something that was easy to dance to. Headbanging, yes. Admittedly curious, I looked around the two into the room. The walls were black, several lights hung from the ceiling, and the floor was covered in sand. Glass separated the dance floor and the bar, where people drank, smoked and... did other stuff that really wasn't meant to be acted out in a public setting. I tore my gaze away from a particularly graphic angel, not really one to watch and enjoy porn. Maybe Ichigo, but not me.

My boots whispered across the sand. There was enough to cover the floor, but not enough to get into anyone's way if they chose to dance. The heavy metal was fading, blending into more bass and techno. More people were coming down to dance, drinks were either in their hands as they clamored down the stairs, or they quickly slammed it down their throats. Must be one of their favorites. It was Ichigo's favorite, too. In front of me, he was still walking, but with a beat in his step to match the beat of the music. Slowly, he started steering me and Hinamori away from the wall and toward the crowd. I really wasn't comfortable with this, but I went anyway so I wouldn't lose sight of him. Momo skipped ahead, already lost in the myriad of people.

Everyone was dancing so close to each other, I felt a little awkward not knowing much about this kind of dancing. My parents had put me through a couple of classical classes, but this was nothing like that. For one, everyone was split into couples of two. Here, people were dancing in a group of at least three or four, a stray body part or two connecting them to another group. And two, the music was completely opposite. There were no signs of pianos, violins, or cellos.

I blushed when I felt and saw a large tan hand close over my wrist, pulling into the sea of jumping bodies. What was I supposed to do, jump with them? That was the idea, because Ichigo started doing it, too. Not wanting to look like an imbecile and be the only one not dancing, I tried to mimic his movements while carefully listening to the downbeat of the music. I tried my best to move at those beats, but the frustration was climbing as I saw more and more complicated moves. Just what was my body supposed to stick with?

Ichigo pulled me close to him, silencing my worries as he twirled me under his arm and against his chest. My mind was a complete blank, thinking nothing but how firm the muscles of his stomach were, or the warmth of his hands on my body, and the tempting prelude to a kiss lingering on those grinning, teasing lips. Shit.

I didn't speak. Trying to get him to hear was a chore in and of itself, so I nixed warning him about my lack of dancing skills. Instead, my shoulders shrugged at him, with no other way to communicate.

He lifted an eyebrow. -What?-

I glare. -I don't dance.-

He rolled his eyes. -Is that all?-

I sighed, and gave him a pointed look. -Ichigo, have you ever seen me dance?-

Ichigo bit his lip. -Good Point.-

He twisted that orange-headed mop his around, in search of something beyond the dancers that surrounded them. It only took him a quick second to find it, and then he was pulling me again, off the dance floor and to the opposite side of the club, where a door led to another hallway. It was just as plain as the stairwell, with only lights and exit signs on the ceilings. We stopped just outside the club doors, turning to each other to have a real conversation.

"Do you really not know how to dance? I thought everyone knew one dance or another, even if it were the chicken dance!"

"Kurosaki-" yeah, he glared "-I can probably fake my way through a waltz, but that is only because I took lessons as a kid. Other than that, I have no rhythm. And you can confirm that with Momo, you two are such good -friends- and all..."

"Hey, dude, I figure if you can do one dance, you can do them all. And Peachy and I have been friends for a while, okay? I didn't know you two were Childhood friends. She hasn't ever talked to you, or even said your name, but she did mention this one incident with watermelons.."

My hand flew to my face, embarrassment evident as I recalled what we termed the "watermelon incident." It included a hot day, a rotten watermelon, and a game involving a baseball bat. That is the only information I will divulge anyone to. I wasn't quite sure on how to respond at first, but I decided to take a page out of Momo's book with the name-calling.

"I can't believe bed-wetter Momo told you that story." He smiled a little, looking down. "What?"

He shook his head a little. "Momo told me someone used to call her that a long time ago. I see. She meant you." He ran his hand through his hair, taking in a deep breath. "Well... Let's go see the master, yeah? I'm sure you're anxious to get this night through. And I'm sure you'll want to schedule a day with just yourself and Momo." He gabbed his thumb in the direction of the only other door to this place. "Shall we?"

Swallowing, I gave him affirmation. Here comes the big moment. I don't know how this will turn out, but I hope it's for everyone's best interest and well-being. I wouldn't want to let down those people who dreamed about me, Ichigo included. He still hasn't told me what i was doing in his dream, but that's okay. He can tell me later, it's not a pressing issue like the one we're going to see, now. Although if I die without ever knowing, I will come back and haunt his ass until he tells me.

That was a reasonable threat. Satisfied with my last request, we walked into the office.

AN: FINALLY! XD Sorry it took so long... You guys probably aren't interested in this anymore, but I'll update it anyway. Thanks for bothering to read. -Bows-


	8. 8

In the Middle of the Night Arc: Untitled Preface 7/?

One step into the room, over the threshold where carpet met tile, the pressure changed. It was heavier, thicker. The same kind of power Koga had, though what exuded from him was a mere pin-drop compared to this. Tiny hairs rose from my neck as the power poked at my senses. It felt like tearful happiness, smelled sweetly like a night in the woods during the month of May, and tasted of poisonous grief. I had to resist the urge to take a sniff and find out if there was anything else I might have missed. Inside the room was a library of books, lined in shelves from floor to ceiling. An oak desk with a dark finish was centered in the middle of the circular room, with two plush chairs waiting. One for the both of us. They were adorned with cushions with the intention to look inviting and comfortable for their guests, but I wasn't feeling that at all, especially with this feeling I was getting in here...

Feeling irritable and distressed, I gave in and collapsed into one of the chairs. Great, now we have to wait, which will no doubt put more pressure on us. Correction: put more pressure on me. I don't think Ichigo is feeling anything. He sat in the chair to my right, crossing his legs at the knees and laying his hands on the arms, sagging into the cushions as if it were his favorite place to be in the entire world. I wished I could be that relaxed. Meeting the Master of the City for the first time, as well as so many other new people in such a short amount of time, can be taxing on the nerves.

First there were the oracles. Urahara and Yoruichi, though I have yet to meet the later in human form, both have helped me so much. But something tells me that they have their own objectives... That's okay. They had their own reasons for not telling me, but I wouldn't ask anyway. As long as they didn't harm me or anyone I cared for directly, it didn't matter. I hoped that they were on the good side... If there even -was- a "good side" for the monsters that come out at night... So far, things seemed okay. Ichigo and Momo aren't going around using their powers to kill people like Koga's group. I wasn't quite sure what powers Momo obtained, but I was sure she had some.

The rest of the people at the Urahara Shouten were there for a reason. Ururu, Jinta, Tessai... I was curious to know if they were oracles, too, or if they had some sort of other power, or if they were normal people, just working as hired help. The kids could've been adopted, but they could have also been their actual offspring. It was a question too personal for me to ask on my first visit there.

Rangiku's and Yachiru's shop, on my hesitant entrance, had been completely out of my comfort zone. I was not going to start wearing those clothes on a regular basis, but she helped me pick out a few things that was agreeable with me. Rangiku was okay. She was a little flighty, flamboyant and her boobs had almost suffocated me on a few occassions when she tried helping me in the fitting rooms, but she seemed like a good person. Something tells me she'll be a big help to me down the road, and not just in battle like her dream.

And then there was the little pink-haired terror. No, I'm not even going to go down that road. She's a kid, but I knew better than to assume just that, considering the store she was in. And poor Ichigo. He's a lady's man, but to think a control freak child was latching onto him... Ugh. And she was serious, too. She is going to hate me no matter what I do, so why even bother with the pipsqueak?

A shadow fell over me, blocking the overhead lights enough to draw my attention away from assessing the various new personalities I've encounter thus far. Ichigo was frowning, creasing his brow into hard lines, a look scary enough to drive away the deadliest of people. To me, it looked more like he was confused, as if he were trying to figure out what I was thinking. He never scared me. It was a proven fact that I could kick his ass if need be, so I always found studying his face to be informative and a great way to pass time. Contrary to what most people thought, I knew the true contours of his face, what each line, squint and twitch meant... Most of the time. Like I stated before, there are times when he completely baffles me in moments of deep thinking, intelligent quips, and a happy-go-idiot mask.

Sitting with him so close to me, inches apart, felt different than it did when we were flush against each other on the dance floor. There were no flashing lights and music to distract us. We were completely alone, together, and I could feel his energy tug at mine, like the tide with the proximity of the moon. My breathing automatically deepened, taking long inhales of the ocean. I had a vision of the sea, sunlight disappearing down into the blackest parts, water's space as vast and deep as the moon's home in the sky. I could taste a drop of night on my tongue, and he felt as sharp as a fang under my touch. Sharp enough to pierce through me, through the water, through the very barrier that separated Heaven and the night sky.

Unbeknownst to me, my fingers had wrapped around his lower arm, which had locked into place as his hands gripped the arm of my chair. The metaphysical coldness inside me found him as alluring as I did. Scraping energies like this, getting a tasty feel of his own natural power. My ice wished to freeze over that ocean, make it darker, to glint and bath in those beautiful streams of moonlight. It wanted his body to warm the desert ice world inside of me, so it could flow freely with the waves of that ocean... I wanted... Shit, my power wanted to merge with his, while I was merged with him physically.

I wanted that, too. I wanted him to kiss me, touch me, mind-fuck me with that power... Were his eyes so shiny before? They were brown, but they were alight, as if he'd found something interesting and attractively mystical. Or maybe that was mystically attractive? I digress. It didn't matter. I was getting distracted. Those eyes were looking directly into mine, freezing me into place, into submission, and I didn't try to fight him. I wanted him, and had no problem submitting to his will, because I could see it in his eyes, he wanted the same things I did.

"Ichi...go..." I felt breathless, as if some invisible force had my throat in a choke-hold, squeezing my neck, barely leaving enough room for me to breathe, and completely unable to talk. My legs were caught between his, hard muscle on the inside of his thigh pressed firmly against me, it made me wonder what other parts of him were... well-developed.

"Kurosaki-kun." We fell together in a heap as we tried to jump away from each other. "I believe it would be highly inappropriate to use this room with any other intention than to meet the master."

Trapped under the massive sack of shocked potatoes known as Ichigo, I craned my head see the person who had saved me from my situation. Yes, saved. There was no telling what we might've done if we had lost control, and here of all places. From what I could tell, she was tall, had kind eyes that looked slightly evil right now, and long dark hair braided in front of her, down to her waist. She must've not liked what she'd seen. Not the two boys slowly inching toward each other for a kiss, but the fact that we chose this location for it.

"S-sorry..." That voice vibrated every body part of mine he was connected with, and I had to cement my mouth shut to keep in a euphoric sigh as the pleasure pooled low in my stomach, threatening the go further south should he do that again. "Um... We weren't... I mean, we were just... waiting for the master!" Sure, Ichigo, lie until your teeth turn purple, it'll be less noticeable. Another quote, this time something from my father, although I must admit, he was partially telling the truth.

"Of course. I believe you." Her smiled told me she saw straight through his stuttering. "Then can I ask you why you are smothering our honored guest?"

Yep. As translucent as a ghost. Ichigo hastily hauled himself off me, blushing a color as bright as a strawberry. He began another round of stuttering while I got up, straightening my shirt before I walked over to her. I gave a small bow. She may not be the master I was supposed to meet, but I saw no reason to be rude.

"Hitsugaya Toshiro. I apologize for our behavior, Miss..."

She gave me a bow of her own, and suddenly her smile didn't seem so evil. "Unohana Retsu. It's alright. I like giving Kurosaki-kun a hard time. It's so fun to tease him and make him blush."

I smirked. "Or humiliate him..." Something we were doing now.

Unohana chuckled. "Or otherwise publicly demean him." I really, really liked this person, scary-evil smile aside. "I came into this room to tell you that Aizen-san is on his way. I sensed high testosterone levels, and decided to check in to make sure everything was okay."

I blinked, and was saved from asking as stupid question when Ichigo got a hold of his flustered self.

"Unohana-san is a freakishly good doctor." He came to stand behind me, so that now we were all crowded in front of the entrance to the office. "At least, for all the furries." I gave him a stare that he promptly responded to. Good boy. "The furries is something of a nickname we give to all the shape-shifters."

The newest addition to this room looked like she wanted to comment, but she paused in the middle of opening her mouth, glancing behind her as if sensing something or someone had just come into her line of awareness. Apparently, they had, as she smiled and ushered us fully into and around the room. She waited by the desk, while I stayed by one of the bookshelves to the side, Ichigo's figure hovering over mine. I had a vague flash of memory at what happened in the chairs, but I forced it aside in order to focus on this meeting, first. One of the most powerful and influential figureheads of this city was about to make an entrance.

And then he was there. No parade of security or businessmen followed him, there was no magical rush at his presence, and no supernatural hoo-doo that came in with him. He walked in, a large pot filled with lilies of the valley in one arm, and a large binder in the other. This was the person who summoned me. This was the man everyone bowed down to. This was Aizen Sousuke, Master of the City of Karakura.

He was tall, and was built nicely between lean and muscly. The jut of his jaw was pointed, and he'd found a way to look masculine with the smooth shape of his face. His brown eyes weren't cruel, but they weren't filled with any sort of emotion. They were just eyes, set there for a single use, and that was it. Medium brown hair was slicked back into wavy spikes, except for one bang, falling between his eyes. He didn't look half bad. I could appreciate the physical appeal, but that was it. Ichigo was the one holding all of my... attention, so there was absolutely no way was I getting anywhere close to this guy. Everyone else may have called him a master, but he wasn't mine.

The planter and binder he was carrying were set on the desk as Unohana bowed politely to him. "Good evening, Aizen-san. Please welcome Kurosaki Ichigo and Hitsugaya Toshiro."

He turned to our direction in one fluid movement. There was no delay between his head and his body, one minute he was looking away, the next he was fully giving us his undivided scrutiny. My face was a practiced calm, even though on the in side my brain was trying to hide in a corner... back toward where Ichigo was standing behind me, trying to hide behind him as if the wall of my skull weren't there. Yeah, that's what I really wanted to do. Speaking of the orange-haired idiot, he just gave Aizen a lazy wave, as if he'd met him numerous times before, which wasn't so hard to believe considering he knew Momo enough to call her all those peach nicknames.

A pleased smile adorned Aizen's face as he spoke a calm, silky tone. "Always a pleasure, Kurosaki-san. Thank you for accepting my invitation." Something told me we didn't have a choice in the matter, that someone or something would have forced us to come along. "Hitsugaya Tosshiro. Greetings. I am Aizen Sousuke, Master Vampire of the City of Karakura. Please, have a seat."

Ichigo went ahead of me and took a seat, again collapsing boneless and somewhat gracefully into an indolent heap. Naturally, my eyes were drawn to the line of his body, traveling across the teasing tanned skin that was showing through the tears in his pants, his bare arms, the column of his neck... Even the parts of his body I couldn't see were visually appealing. His chest was defined enough to crease and stretch his shirt in all the right places. The gap between the end of his shirt and the start of his pants hinted at a six pack, and... Was that a belly button ring? Shit, at first it was a tattoo, and now a piercing? How do I miss these things?

"Hitsugaya-san." Aizen drew my gaze away from that lovely male specimen in the chair. His hand was outstretched toward the other empty seat. Grumpy that my appreciation for Kurosaki's body was interrupted, I sat stiffly on the edge of the cushion and patiently waited for Aizen to tell me just why the fuck I was here. It's crazy. You kill one vampire and you become an instant celebrity.

"Aizen-san. Kurosaki-san and Hitsugaya-san have school in the morning." Unohana to the rescue, as the man across from the desk raises an eyebrow at this realization.

"I see... I was unaware Kurosaki-san intended to go that far with his schooling." Said orange-haired Kurosaki shrugged in response." Then allow me to to be direct."

Ichigo leaned forward, sitting on the edge of his chair like the way I was, though his posture was further slumped. I remained seated as I was. I wasn't doing too bad with keeping my face the way it was. But for someone with otherworldly senses like everyone in this room, it was hard to think that they would be put off by what was on the surface. I prided myself on sensing what other people were actually thinking, I wasn't going to be a hypocrite and assume there wad no one else with that same ability. But Unohana, Aizen, Urahara... I couldn't tell at all. There was absolutely nothing there for me to dig my spidy-senses into. And while Urahara was full of personality and humor, there was something a little extra to him, and I couldn't figure out exactly what. It was the same feeling I got with Ichigo when he put on his idiot mask. It was the same feeling I got with Unohana and the first time she entered the office with an extra edge in her tone, and I'm feeling it again no, with Aizen and his calm politeness.

And let's not forget Momo. I never wanted to admit it to myself, but I got that feeling from her, too. What was it that changed about her?

The vampire rose out of his chair momentarily to retrieve a book from a case behind him, as if he remembered it's exact location out of the other books with the same colored binding. He opened it, flipped through the pages until he found what he was looking for, and placed the book in front of me. I glanced at Kurosaki, waiting for the small nod he gave me, before looking at the information. There was a large picture of eight people in the group, including Koga. Aizen's finger landed on him.

"I believe this is the one you disposed of?" My throat tightened, and since it was untrustworthy to speak and not waver, I gave a simple nod. "I see. He was the second in command of this group, the Bount." He sat back in his chair, and I bent forward a little more to get a good look at everyone in the picture. There was nothing else on the page. "They are a group of vampires without a master, and without a city. Rogue vampires. They disregard the territories around them and do whatever they please. The vampire masters here in Japan have all voted and agreed on their immediate execution. You have managed to kill the first one"

So Aizen wanted to see me because I moved in on his prey? Because I was the only one with a kill count? I seriously hoped he would not ask me to kill the others, that one time was only luck, and I had no intentions to make a regular sport of it. Even now, Koga's frozen body threatened to spill into the forefront of my mind.

Ichigo decided to get mad about this. If I weren't so busy trying to figure out my feelings were about this, and my struggle with Koga, I would have found his possessiveness cute.

"Oi, Aizen! What's the meaning of asking him this all of a sudden? Supernatural problems are supernatural problems! Toshiro is still human!"

"True, but he is also a necromancer. Just as you are a witch. Being human is no longer a leash for either of you not to be involved. You both have supernatural powers, and that in turn makes you part of this world. Not to mention Koga was killed by Hitsugaya-san, and that achievement in fact directly affects this problem."

He was speaking sense, I knew that. I knew I had no hopes of returning to my sheltered, normal life as a rich genius with loving parents and a hot roommate. Shit, what did I do? What -will- I do. Koga's death is creeping up on me again. He chose me to kill him because he sensed my power. He chose me to kill him because he thought I could help him kill the rest of his clan. He placed his trust in my ability to get stronger. But at the same time, I took a life, even though it was "undead." Whatever the technical terms, he was a man, up and walking around and with a personality. It was the same difference. This wasn't like my necromancy. That was use to put the dead back to sleep, decaying zombies put back into the ground after being disturbed from their rest by the wrong person. Koga was not decaying, he wasn't in need of sleep, he was never disturbed from his grave. Hell, he never had a grave! And now I'm being asked to kill again, to be a part of the supernatural community and do my share. I can't kill with my supernatural skills, so where does that leave me?

"You can't expect that of him! He's a necromancer! They aren't meant for combat!"

"Yes, Kurosaki-san, but you forget he also wields Hyorinmaru, much like you and Zangetsu." My body went still, tensed with every muscle. He was right. My family heirloom. How did he know... "Actually, I have a proposition for you." He was speaking at me. He had a proposition for me? Like what? What could he possibly offer me? I was not going to make a deal with the devil himself. "Now that you have awakened and used your sword, you will be training with Kurosaki-san, yes?" Where the hell did he get this information? "Take this book and at least prepare yourself if you are attacked. Because you will be. The rest of the group will sniff you out and terminate you, and everyone connected to you. Accept my request to assist us, or don't, but either way, you will get attacked again. The difference... is if you will have enough support to stay alive."

Talk about motivation. I may have been hesitant before, but now there was no question. I had to get over Koga somehow, and I will. But in the meantime, I was going to get through this. I wouldn't be killing. I would be protecting. Ichigo, Momo, my parents. There was no one anywhere near me that is allowed to die. Heck, I even feel gracious enough to protect that pink-haired brat...

"You are such an ass, Aizen."

"I supposed by your standards, I am. However, I do not allow sentimentality to wash over leadership. Karakura is my territory, and I will stand at the top. The Bount have invaded it, a pack of lowly worms with fangs. I simply want Hitsugaya-san and you to become stronger, for himself and for you. Is that too much to ask, Kurosaki-kun?"

Ichigo frowned so deeply at him, his eyes so tuned into Aizen's lack of expression, those gears were becoming visible again, processing information, storing it, twisting it this way and that, hoping to squeeze out the problem. "You have an ulterior motive, don't you?"

"Does that matter, so long as our goal of protecting this town are the same?"

He crossed his arms. "Yes."

Aizen raised a hand. "I promise my best manners. This will not turn into an incident like Tokyo." Ichigo stood up, urging him to continue. Aizen chuckled. "Or an incident like Kyoto."

He seemed satisfied with that. Those little promises drained the anger out of my roommate, and he sat, this time hoisting a knee up onto the arm of the chair, shift his position to look directly at me. "This is up to you, now. What are you going to do?"

Well, when we get some time alone, I'm going to ask you about those incidents. That is for damned sure. Aizen didn't strike me as someone who kept his word, but it looks like Ichigo managed to subdue him into actually meaning and keeping his promises. Hopefully. It drives me crazy? What the hell is Ichigo to these people and vise versa? This is killing me. I need to ask Kurosaki a very high number of questions, and if he doesn't tell me the truth, I'm going to run him through with Hyorinmaru, I swear! But first, this little order-disguised-as-a-request from Aizen. Did I really have any sort of choice in the matter? No. I wanted to believe that I did, that it wasn't too late to turn around and play ignorance. But Aizen was right, they were going to come after me, now. I was a target, and if I wanted to stay alive, I would have to learn to defend myself. I would have to learn to depend on others. I would have to learn how to kill and not be sorry about it.

I closed my eyes and gave a sigh. It was calming, and pushed all of my worries to the walls and tiny corners of my head. Later. Those will be picked through and dealt with later. Right now, I need to make a rational decision, and letting my doubts and frustration think for me was not the best way to go about hand reached out and closed the book. If he was letting me take this entire thing, there must be all kinds of important information in here. They say knowledge is power. Who was I to pass it up?

My eyes open on Ichigo's slightly calm, but slightly upset face. Then I shift to look at Aizen as I pulled the book into my lap. My face was composed, so was my voice as I told him my answer. "Fine." I stood up. "I'll help you. Just don't expect big results from me." And with that, I stormed out, not entirely missing the damn vampire's grinning face. He may be triumphant now, but that is as far as he goes.

I had to find some way of coping with Koga's dead face if I was going to move forward. I can't forget about it, and I can't push it away, because then it all comes back to bite me in the ass at the most crucial of moments. But the answer won't come easy, and just because there wasn't going to be much time to find it didn't mean it wasn't out there. With my guinea pig helping me there's nothing to mistrust, nothing to doubt. And since we're going to be spending a lot of our time together, there's a plus chance for us to get a little cozier. What was his Zangetsu? What did he mean by incidents of Tokyo and Kyoto? What the fuck had overcome us and possessed us to almost kiss in that office?

More and more questions are outnumbering the less and less answers. But that was okay. I was okay. Having stormed through the entire complex, there was no time for me to realize I was outside until I felt the cool night air on my skin. My warring emotions had distracted me so much, I was kind of surprised how far I had gotten. Ichigo's jeep was right in front of me, and so I leaned against it, waiting for him to catch up to me. No use in walking home. Might as well wait for the driver. Half an hour wasn't that long of a wait in silence, anyway.

Propped up against the hood, slightly on the other side so the door to the building on the other side, my sharp hearing picked up the squeaky sound of door hinges and two sets of footsteps. The voices speaking were the two most familiar to me, and I turn around to see the strawberry and the peach walking toward his car.

"You aren't coming back with us to the dorms?" Ichigo asked, arms folded behind his head and walking a leisurely pace. "Why not?"

She giggled. "I don't go to school like you and the others. What would be the point?"

"Y-yeah, but I figured you might want to use this time to catch up with Toshiro or something..."

Momo waved a hand in front of her face. "Nah... We're going out for coffee later." She looked at me. "Ne, Shiro-chan? How about tomorrow morning?"

I mock-glared at her. "Sure, bed-wetter Momo. How about eight?"

She slapped me repeatedly on the chest, blushing like crazy. "You're so mean, Shiro-chan! What are you doing, taking lessons from Ichigo? You don't call a lady a name like that! Still shows you're just as immature as ever! Granny is probably rolling in her grave right now because of how ungentlemanly you're being! Have some respect!"

I rolled my eyes. "Yeah, well, the day you stop using that ridiculous nickname you've created, is the day I'll stop reminding you of that one time you-"

She squeaked and covered my mouth. "Stop being a jerk!" There were a few choice words that had entered my mind, and I had a mind to use them just for fun if it weren't for the muffled chuckling coming from my future crash-test dummy. He was trying so hard to keep it in, it almost made him look constipated. One of his hands were covering his mouth, and the other was wrapped around his stomach. His eyes were mere slits, tearfully peeking liquid brown eyes at us as though we were his new favorite amusement.

I punched him in the shoulder, unable to speak but able to otherwise convey my distress at him through other, more violent, actions. As expected, he grunted, but the smile remained. Shit, he knew I was just teasing him. Whatever. I was sick of standing in this parking lot, with Momo's hands covering my mouth so tightly, I might just get permanent wrinkles if she didn't let go. Not really caring for the taste of Momo's lotion, I lightly slapped her hands until she moved them away from me. And before she had the chance to scold me again for hitting a lady, which the both of us new was a load of bullshit, I told her I would call her tomorrow morning when and where tomorrow we would meet. With that agreement, we hugged and parted, she giving Ichigo a hug as well before she disappeared back into the building, and Ichigo and I both climbed into his car.

There was a moment of silent shuffling as we buckled in, safety and all that good Samaritan shit, before I felt a warm hand caressing the upper muscle of my arm. Ichigo was giving me the most pathetically adorable face of a worried lover. Okay, that was my imagination, like a worried friend. A guy could hope! I may not be perfect boyfriend material, but I could try!

"Are you okay?" His voice had gotten deeper, and I wanted his body against mine again to feel it vibrate over every inch of me. Damn, and here comes my horrible inability to lie.

"I'm not okay, but I'm not a broken, blubbery mess, either." Not yet, anyway. There was going to be some point where I would break down. I could feel it, and I both dreaded and hoped that it would or wouldn't be in front of him. "There's just a lot to take in... I feel the need to do something nostalgically simple." Yeah, that's what I needed, a little cheering up by doing something tediously mundane and tragically human.

Neither of us said anything more through the ride home, and at the dorm we exchanged quiet good nights as we parted to our rooms. I admit to staring at him longer than I should, until his door was completely shut and every centimeter of him was hidden away from me. It was late int the evening, but I couldn't sleep. After changing into sweats and a tee, I resolved myself to whimsical needs. I got myself a bowl of popcorn, a glass of soda, and my textbooks. Once settled in the living room, with the television on for background noise, I gave myself the menial task of being normal that completely cleared my head and calmed my raging emotions.

I did my homework.

AN: I'm watching the Bleach Rocks Musicals and the backstage extras waaaay too much. Seriously. How seriously? This: "Strawberry-san! Peach-san! Strawberry-san! Peach-san! Strawberry-san! Peach-san!" Yeah... this will be in a future chapter.

Also, I'm just warning everyone that in the next couple of months, I'll be moving, so I dunno when I'll get the next chapter up. Please be patient. -Bows-

Another note: I never, ever, wanna write for Aizen again. Unfortunately, I know that that is an impossibility. -HeadDesk-


	9. 9

In the Middle of the Night Arc: Untitled Preface 8/?

The glaciated ground beneath me, the heavy, unmoving sky above me, and the distant mountains around me were a familiar sight. Immediately opening my eyes upon closing them for just a fraction of a second to wave off an oncoming headache, something deep within me recognized that my body was lying unconscious, while my mind, stuck in this perpetual world of snow and crystal, was completely awake. Everything was like it was before. It was unclear if the frost my feet traveled over were covering a body of water or land, or both. The clouds looked ready to pop open and dump tons and tons of snow onto anyone foolish enough to traverse here. And the mountains, no matter the length of time I ran, always remained far away, forever unreachable, as if they were part of a painted backdrop.

I frowned. Last time I was here, there had been something different. The memory was a fingertip away, as if it were teasing me in little wisps of wishful thinking, dispersing whenever my hand even dared to try to close around it. Something important about this world was missing, something that belonged here amongst the ice and snow. Not me, but someone created with this old, untouched place, a place of purity unspoiled by the crowds of humans and wildlife... Which was utterly preposterous, but I was for some reason ready to swear it on my grandparents' graves that there was another entity here. Not a normal being, but something grandiose, a mythical creature of powerful and graceful stature.

Curious but not at all confident, my feet started to move, a random direction to start off. Sitting there like a gaping duck wasn't doing anything, and I yearned to trigger some sort of event, anything, to bring out that missing beast. So far it was howling winds and echoing roars of thunder, hardly worth noting anything. There was nothing I could think of but to start walking.

I remember the first time I came here. I had just moved into the dormitory, my first night here, in fact. Nothing had made sense, so I just figured it was one of those random dreams that people talk about. I never remembered any of my dreams, they were always quick to leave me when I woke back up. Not these. Several occasions found different situations awaiting me when I dived unexpectedly into this world, though it was never by choice. It could be random, but an odd, stomach-churning feeling told me to think otherwise. Those stomach-churning feelings tended to be favorable when the truth comes forth, so even though nothing really happens much here, I was always on my guard. A couple of days, when my schedule is so hectic and I don't have time to ingest any food, there would be a blanket spread across the snow, filled with plates of fish, bowls of rice, and bottles of wine. Yes, I did eat, because my stomach wouldn't allow me to leave without doing so. On the three days I was sick during the change between winter and spring, I would wake in this world, hazy dreams of a rough, but cool texture across my forehead. And when my lust for Ichigo would get the better of me, the ice was broken to give me a cool lake to dive my fevered self into.

Tonight is no exception. I just had my first encounter with the preternatural, of course I was going to end up here. How stupid of me to think my invariably recurrent dream would not be affected by what occurred when I was awake. I've been so distracted by Ichigo, Momo and Aizen, that I've ignorantly put this place on the back-burner. So what do I do?

I stopped walking, the overwhelming urge to yell growing too incessant for me to control. "What the -hell- am I supposed to do?!" I screamed, not really for any reason other than to make myself feel better. I knew I wasn't alone in this world, but I doubted the other occupant would answer me. Color me surprised when it did.

"Hitsugaya Toshiro. I'm surprised a small thing like you was the first to reach me in a very long time. Do you think you'll be strong enough to wield me?"

Astonished, I turned around, looking for signs of life in the direction I felt the voice coming from. What did he mean by 'wield'? It was a deep, graveled voice, belonging quite apparently to a male, but perhaps human isn't his initial tongue. It rumbled the entire world, vibrating up my legs. There was a shadow against the sheet of clouds, slithering toward me at an unimaginable speed before descending into my range of vision, landing gracefully to stand before me. He was huge, an icy hue of blue and white, and the most terrifyingly beautiful sight I ever saw. Standing before me was a dragon, wing spanned out behind him in an aristocratic show of pomp, and tail resting on the ground in elegant slaloms. Gleaming, malicious eyes glared into my own, and a shudder traveled down the intricate highway of my nervous system. Was this dragon the one speaking to me? It must be, the voice would befit the appearance, and aside from him, I have yet to see another living soul in this dream-scape of mine.

When I found my voice, I spoke politely, because I was both scared and intimidated. "What's your name?"

"You already know my name," the dragon spoke, his mouth making no effort to move with those words. "Say it, and we will continue to meet here. Say it, and you will remember everything that happens when you leave. Say it, and we will grow stronger together."

I did not know any dragons, or at least I haven't met any in the past day or so. The only dragon I know of is the family sword, Hyorinmaru, but that was only because of stories from both my parents and several old journals I found in my father's study. He was supposedly a powerful dragon from the north with a knack of bringing in winter. Well, this certainly poses an interesting query about my mental state. All these dreams chalked up to a sword's environment just to get a chance at communication with me? Why couldn't it talk to me in the real world? It would make me seem less crazy when I tell Ichigo about it.

Not having any other answer, I put my theory to the test. "Are you Hyorinmaru?"

The dragon's happy chuckles made the world shake, almost sending me to the ground as my once-stable feet unsteadily tried to fumble for a better grip on the reverberating ice beneath me. With my arms out on the side to better still myself from this surprise attack, Hyorinmaru took this chance to fully bring himself down from his airy position of sitting on his two back claws, to resting on all four of them. Seriously, how could this huge entity be just a sword? Hyorinmaru breathed into the icy air in front of me, clouded breath clearing to reveal just what I had been thinking about, the family sword, and the weapon fell into my outstretched hands. I was fortunate enough to adjust my arms and catch it before it could stab the earth at my feet. It weighed just as it did during the battle with Koga, gleaming with an icy sheen and an intent to readily slay anyone who wasn't me or part of my family.

I could feel a chilling affection creep from the sword and into my heart, taking hold of me in a protective cocoon of thick, solid, frosted glass. The sword welcomed my necromancy, rolling around in glee at the spot of cool death inside me. Both of these powers danced with each other, and I could almost literally feel their happiness at finding one another. This must be the work of the dragon before me, since he was the dream-scape embodiment of this sword, something I could see, hear and speak to.

Said dragon was still, laying fully on his front side, a contented calm bowing his great head as our powers continued to hug and dance, like best friends and soul mates. Was Hyorinmaru now a part of me? Would there be any distance between us from now on, or could I enter this place freely of my own will now that I've said his name? A cold wind blew through my hair and under his wings. It was a cold breeze, but it didn't sting my cheeks or hands at all, which were bare of any protective clothing. My entire body felt normal, the snow beneath my feet crunched as I shifted my weight, but it didn't numb me. The temperature felt... nice.

"Toshiro." He said my name, but that was okay with me. Our powers, mine and his alike, have merged. Combined. No, they've synthesized, into a greater power that I can only hypothesize about. Individually we were strong, but now we were better. Faster. Smarter. Colder. "Our time is nearly up." Yes, I could feel it. This world was inside my soul, and now it was our room. It used to be an empty space inside my soul, now it is our space. But we've occupied this space for quite some time. It's nearly time for me to wake up.

"Then, Hyorinmaru... I'll most definitely see you again, in another dream?"

The beast paused, looking at me strangely before he nodded and pushed himself off the ground, wings unfolding and catching the wind to keep itself afloat. "Yes. Until the next dream." And with that, he was gone and I was awake.

The dorm room came into blurry view as my eyes opened, traces of my ice world molded itself into the shape of my living room. It had been snowing in my world, but now it looked like it was snowing inside my dorm, and it took a minute for the precipitation to fully disappear. The lamp lights were still on, my homework still spread out on the coffee table, and the television was quietly playing background music videos. I peered at the artist name. The Gazette. That was more Ichigo's flavor of music than mine. Did I really have it on this channel? I don't remember. What I did remember? A huge-ass dragon in the middle of a winter desert.

Running a hand through my hair and rubbing the imprints out of my face, I hoisted myself onto wobbly legs. Voice of experience and wisdom: never fall asleep on the coffee table. Stretching out the kinks in my neck and popping joints back into place, I glanced out the window. It was brighter than dawn, but not as bright as the afternoon. What time was it? I checked the clock on the other side of the wall for my answer. Nearly seven in the morning. I had a little over an hour, just enough time to get ready and go meet Momo at a nearby cafe.

Ichigo opened his door, automatically causing my gaze to drift over and stare at him. Dark-wash jeans, "Nice Vibe" t-shirt, bare feet, and orange hair gelled into tamed spikes. Hello, salty goodness. He paused upon noticing my awake state and shifted so that, instead of heading ti the kitchen, he was now heading towards me, a smirk on his face. "Nice to see Sleeping Beauty is finally awake." Did he just refer to me as a blond, unconscious woman spelled to sleep until true love's first kiss? That bitch. "Don't worry about rushing. Momo called me, and I told her to meet us at Bankai. You still have some time."

"I'm not Sleeping Beauty. Next time you call me that, I'll punch you," was my only protest.

He smiled those dazzling teeth at me before glancing behind me at the screen, which had moved on to another video, this time the rock music was accentuated with the melodic strings of the koto. "I didn't know you listened to this type of music."

I shuffled around him, heading toward the bathroom. "It's just background noise," I told him before closing the door, effectively cutting off any response he might have given to me. The music was intended to keep me awake, but I was pulled into that world again.

And this time, I remembered everything, including my powers. I felt different, or at least much improved. I could still feel the electrical surge of my frosty death powers, but it felt... magnified. The dead will still follow me, but at what numbers? What state will they be in? Up to this day, it had always been the recently deceased. What would happen were I to attract older things? And what if they came up to me during the daytime? I've already had that once, the kitten in the forest, but that was at sunset, very, very nearly dark.

Death stirred lazily inside me, a swishing, swirling, rippling pool of power in my gut, moving as if rolling over in the middle of its sleep. What we had gone through earlier yesterday, and then in that dream, it's as if that energy wore out its stamina. There will be no rebellious problems from it today, unless Kurosaki decided to do training, but I figured he didn't want to miss any of his classes. It was a Tuesday, he had a sculpting class in the morning and an internship meeting with a teacher later that afternoon. I didn't have any classes, but I did have karate this afternoon, though I could probably reschedule that to tomorrow, and a kendo meet later this evening. I haven't seen Kusaka in a while, and suddenly I felt ecstatic to see him. If there was anyone at that school that was my friend, it would be him. His mind was quite sharp, and he was very good at his co-captain position next to me. Challenging him to a duel will be the first thing I do when I step foot on the practice grounds. It would help me to let off some steam.

Today's itinerary included only those three destinations, and with no time limit, I could spend most of the morning and afternoon with Hinamori, and possibly Ichigo if he came by after his classes. Bankai was the place he went to get his usual morning coffee and pastries. If I had to chose a place that I absolutely loved that was not Starbucks, it would be that place. And Bankai was only a local shop, small, and family-owned, so it's a real compliment to them when I say I like their coffee. And Ichigo frequents their place so much, they know him by name and usual. I have yet to walk into that place, because Ichigo gets me stuff almost every morning, so I shrug it off and accept his offers.

Finding the right temperature of the shower was a pain in the ass, like it always is. If there was one thing to complain about in this building, it was the lack of efficient plumbing. It was a wonder that Ichigo was such a successful plumber, the entire building was blessed with his hands, because without them, all ten floors would be flooded and sewage would be flowing from each and every balcony jutting out from the structure. Well, perhaps I exaggerate a little on that particular emphasis, but you get what I mean. We have people stopping by our dorm often enough, and when the both of us are gone, our door is usually littered with sticky notes and memos and folded pieces of paper describing their problems, thanks, or promises of a reward. We keep a folder, I could prove prove it. Most of those rewards have been fulfilled, but he didn't mind if they did or didn't. He doesn't advertise his talents, but the gossip network let's everyone know what he accomplishes, and he's suddenly everyone's shiny, new hope for fixing their water problems. I think I should pimp him out. Kurosaki in a can; spray it on and the leak is gone. Sounds catchy, no?

After getting the temperature just right, I went about cutting off my bandages. It didn't take any effort at all, and after a couple of minutes, I was staring at my healing legs. There was no sign of infection, and the more severe wounds were almost closed. The smaller wounds weren't' even visible anymore, and the rest were scabbed over into thin, jagged lines. Ichigo's medicine was truly impressive. I turned, glancing behind me to survey the damage of my back reflected in the mirror. There was nothing there. There was nothing but smooth, pale skin, unblemished and perfectly healthy. I was a little surprised, but after seeing the length of restoration on my legs, it wasn't particularly shocking.

I stepped into the shower, hair instantly drooping to stick to my neck, bangs sticking to my forehead. The pounded into my skin, and it felt so good against my aching body, after washing my hair and body, I just lay in the tub, soaking up the free water massage, shifting every now and then to get it to fall on every inch of me; back, legs, shoulders, stomach, chest, arms...

This felt so good, the was actually relieving tension from my body, and that in turn had my mid relaxed, unworried, about what was to come later on in the day. I felt like I could go a ten rounds with Kusaka and beat up everyone in the karate dojo without breaking a sweat, and still have enough energy to tie up Ichigo and screw him senseless a couple of times. Or as I preferred, have him screw me. There are many, kinky things I wanted to try out with him, including bondage, and that left me imagining all sorts of positions; in his lap, sixty-nine, against a hard, vertical surface, from behind, from properly in front, in the bathroom...

Shit. That vulgar word almost flew out of my mouth as I felt myself harden between my stomach and the Porcelain tub. Great. Fucking fantastic, of all the times to get one, it has to be now. I don't normally allow myself to get this worked up over the carrot-top in the other room, and when I did, he was never around. I made sure he was away from me before succumbing to my private desires of him. Why? I tended to be loud, which is why I searched for a washcloth before taking care of my problems. No doubt Ichigo would think something wrong, which would lead him to burst through the bathroom door in in a clamor of worry only to either embarrass the both of us, or tease me for calling out his name during release. Both of those scenarios did not site well with me, as I'm sure they wouldn't sit well with anyone... Unless you're a slut. Sluts are okay to get caught doing things they shouldn't. I'm not a slut, thank the maker, so I dig around in the closet until I found a clean washcloth.

It would've been an interesting sight to behold for Kurosaki, but I wasn't going to give him that satisfaction. I can't even take off my shirt in front of him without blushing. Damn my modesty issues! It was just my chest! I didn't want to think about how he would react to my full nudity. Would he laugh at my boyish figure, or would he stare lecherously at it? I knew he had some sort of attraction to me, our time alone in the office assured me that. But I didn't know how far that attraction went. Did he only think I was handsome, and maybe worthy enough for a kiss, a small peck of the lips just to see if I could kiss as well as a girl? Or did he feel something deeper? Was the urge to fuck me as strong inside him as it was inside me? Did he feel anything at all besides friendship and lust?

I could only wish, imagine, and react to the possibilities. What if Ichigo came through this door right now? Would those warm, brown eyes liquify to molten heat as he stared at my naked, erect form? I could picture it so easily, his lust burning his skin, igniting a fever throughout his loins. I had no idea of the size between his legs, but that wasn't the point of this delusional hallucination I was enduring. Sometimes, like right now, my imagination was too good at plotting the setting, too good at getting me to release control and freely hope that one day, this would become truly real. His spikes would dampen from the moisture in the air, his clothes would be tight and casual, but he wouldn't take them off. He would come to me, walk with definite purpose to where I now lay on my back in the shower. I could see the impressive bulge in his pants, and it made my breath quicken.

What does he do to me? Why do I have this reaction to him? All throughout my life, I've only done one sexual thing to another person in my entire life, otherwise I have been about to control my hormones around everyone else. Everyone except Ichigo. With him, it was just there. No matter the walls or barriers I put around my heart and my dick, somehow the orange-haired idiot always manages to turn those switches on, as if he had twenty-four-hour access to all parts of me. It scared me, it excited me, and worst of all, it didn't really bother me. If anyone were to have any sort of control over me, it didn't bother me in the slightest to give that permission to Ichigo.

And how would Ichigo react? He would kneel against the tub, lifting a hand to touch my water-slicked chest. Those fingers, hot with his passion, would trail over my skin, tracing my collar bone and the curve of my neck, fiddling with the lobe of my ear, and drifting over my jaw. I would feel the flutter of his fingers under the rough material of the washcloth, smoothing over the line of my lips, a teasing gesture that only lasted the briefest of moments as he trailed his nails down my chin and around one of my nipples. I moaned against the bunched up cloth in my mouth as his mouth replaced his fingers, closing my eyes in ecstasy as he suckled the sensitive nub as gently and sincerely as a lover would their newly-wed virgin on their wedding night, regardless of how dirty the current setting seemed. It didn't matter. This was a figment of my imagination, and I was going to run wildly with it.

Those fingers were again on my body, this time sending fleeting touches down my stomach, thigh, over the curve of my bent knee, and circling around to grace his touch to the underside of my thigh, also known as weak point number two. My back arched, one hand flying up to push against the tiled wall behind me, the other gripping the edge of the tub in a white-knuckled grip. The pleasure was more intense than anything I've ever felt, heat rose through my groin faster than a fire spreading through a drought-roughened forest, and my pulse thrummed like the baseline in a club in my ears.

His mouth detached from my nipple, and I had a moment of clarity, to actually think as his other unoccupied hand closed around my other, neglected nipple, squeezing that entire side of my chest. I slumped against the tub, trying to catch my breath, sweating the liquid bliss that Ichigo had built up inside of me. And this was with just his hands, I fear what would become of me if he used more than that. I don't think my naive hormones could handle that just yet. They could barely handle this fantasy even now, and it took steel will not to release as a warm hand closed over the most exposed and vulnerable part of me. My entire lower body tensed, and I struggled with my breathing as he ever-so-slowly started to move his hand against me. Every time he squeezed upward I thought I would lose control of all the muscles and clenched my orgasm in its cage, every time I felt a fingertip caress the very tip of me my legs twisted insurmountable ecstasy, every time that hand would let go only to massage my scrotum and corrupt my entrance sent me into a euphoric frenzy, and the moans would not stop flying out of my covered mouth.

I couldn't handle it. A few more pumps, a couple more instances of being impaled with only an inch of his finger, and several more squeezes were the end of me. My brain fogged as I was sent to that special after-glow place I usually went to after a rough bought of overloaded sexual stimulation. Everything was gone, my stress, worries and tension. The shower had turned cold, but that was okay, it was actually very soothing. I had been waiting for so long to get that off my chest, or rather my body, all I could do was lay there, spitting the washcloth out as my adrenaline-pumped heartbeat started to slow. There was no clock in the bathroom, so there was no idea how to tell time in here unless I brought my phone in, which I didn't do this time around.

"Toshiro..." That voice seemed so far away, and I tuned it out, favoring to spend a few more minutes resting in that high.

"Toshiro?" Why was that voice muffled? Why did it persist? "It's almost time to go, you've been in there for a while." I cracked open an eye, the shower I was under instantly coming into view. I glanced to my empty side, where the rest of the empty bathroom peeked through the opening of the curtain. That was Ichigo... Wha..?

"Toshiro, are you okay? Ya need anything?" Ignoring that voice once again, I turned my head back to my shower... and gaped at the sight. It wasn't Ichigo who's hand was caressing me, it was my own. The image of Ichigo was so real, I had for a short time thought it was his hands doing all the work, when in fact, it was mine. Ugh... This is what I mean when there were times that my imagination got the better of me. Slowly, I stood, working my throat so it wouldn't sound hoarse.

"I'm fine." Brownie points for me. My voice wasn't shaky at all. "I just... fell asleep..." It was a lame excuse, but he didn't catch on. There was a snort behind the door, one that told me he wasn't surprised.

"Then hurry up. Hinamori-chan will be waiting."

Whatever. She can wait. She knows that I'm not always perfect with my punctual time-card. Heck, I'll buy her coffee for her if she ends up waiting for too long. So what was Ichigo's deal? He hadn't cared if we were late meeting Aizen. On the contrary, Aizen was a little late with meeting us, pressing business with the club being his excuse, but I hardly doubted it was as simple as that. I wasn't going to pry, though, because I truly didn't want to know.

Getting up on shaky limbs and standing still, making sure I didn't fall over as I reached down to tap off the water. After drying myself off, I usually hang my towel and get dressed, but it just dawned on me that I forgot to actually bring a clean set of clothes in with me. Crap! I had been so distracted by my dream, distracted by Ichigo, that I had forgotten to grab cleans clothes. That meant the only cover I had was a towel. I blushed. That meant I had to cross a room in nothing but a freaking towel in front of Ichigo! Full body blush. There was no way I was going to live it down if he started making fun of me. It happened all the way through my school years, being so petite. I'll beat him up, too. That sounded fair, yes? Tease a petite person, or tease a person for getting beat up by a petite person? Yeah, that should give me at least some gratification.

Tying the towel around my waist, and grateful that there was enough of the material to keep me fully covered as I walked, I turned off the lights and opened the door to the dining room. All the lights were on and on the table's surface was Ichigo's medical kit, but there was no sight of the strawberry, himself. Hopeful to sneak into my bedroom without being seen, I snaked my way through the door, stayed close to the wall to avoid any creaking, and entered my room without a single problem. I had worried over nothing.

I didn't come back out until I was fully dressed, green cargos, white long-sleeved shirt and a yellow hooded vest. As expected, Ichigo was waiting for me at the table. He let me get comfy in the chair before kneeling in front of me and inspecting my legs. There wasn't much to inspect as he found out, and after a couple of swipes of his medicine he re-wrapped my legs, but with less bandages. It felt better having less tape stuck to my legs, and my cargos were slightly baggy, so it gave me some comfortable room to move without being irritated. I thanked him before walking toward the living room, but he grabbed my wrist.

"Wait, I need to check your back." I let him do so without a word and he let out a low whistle. "Okay, never mind. Your back is just fine. Why didn't you just tell me?"

I shrugged, going into the living room to retrieve my shoes. I couldn't look at him for more than two minutes, the shower scene coming freshly to the forefront of my mind. If I looked at him, I would blush, and that was the last thing I wanted to do. So until there was a distraction, and the recent happenings in the bathroom learned to take a backseat, I had to be very careful of what showed on my face. Without realizing it, Ichigo had managed to break through and affect the perfect facade of my blank face. I hadn't even realized it until now.

"Would it have halted you from looking for yourself?" A long silence was met at that question, and since it already gave me an answer, I spoke up for him. "That's what I thought."

Grabbing my sneakers and sitting on the couch, the silence loomed over the both of us as we finished the menial tasks that would lead to our upcoming departure. It bothered me on a small scale, but it really took over Ichigo's self control. He usually would be chatting up a storm right now, saying stupid things about how he was finally getting me into the cafe after so long, or how much of an amusing pair Peachy and I were, anything and everything to let off the energy of his excitement. Quietly putting his stuff away and grabbing things he needed, there was no one-sided conversation issued. My eyes were still stubbornly glued to the floor, so I didn't know the reason, but I wasn't going to press it. He was probably wondering if he'd done something to make me angry, or some other stupid conclusion.

After we had our wallets and keys, we locked the door and headed toward the cafe. It was a bit of a chore, like always, with many people greeting and talking to Ichigo and ignoring me completely, or maybe I just tuned them out... Whatever the case, it took us almost half an hour to reach our destination when it should've only taken us ten minutes. Walking beside and somewhat behind him, I pondered a lot of things. There was a mental list of questions created for Momo, and several stories comprised of my powers, mom and dad, and my boneheaded roommate. Thank any and all morning deities out there that I'll be able to have coffee with this conversation, and pastries. That cheered me up a little. Despite outward displays of sophistication and maturity, I actually have a soft spot for sweets, which is why there is hardly anyone around when I eat them. Can't give away my weaknesses... As for the orange-top, I knew he liked spicy food, as well as Italian. One of these days, I'm going to con him into going out with me. I liked Italian, too.

I felt a hand on my shoulder, stilling our almost synchronized stride just down the street from the coffee house. I finally glance up at the man, wondering what it was he wanted now that he couldn't have said earlier. He waited for some of the worst times to get the emotional crap off his chest. We'll have to change that. "Um.. Are you mad at me for anything?"

I lifted an eyebrow in a slight mockery of inquiry. "What makes you say that?"

He shrugged, pulling back his hand, much to my dismay. His frown showed his confusion, and I could see the slightest of slips in that clown mask, eyes narrowing a centimeter to carefully study my body and verbal language. "You've been opening up a little more to me these past couple of days. But then this morning you reverted to one-hundred-percent cold. Is that my fault, or is that your nonsense? Because if it is, then I want to get rid of it right here and now."

I snorted, amused that he would call my sexual insecurities "nonsense." There was absolutely no way in frozen hell that I was going to tell him about imagining him jerking me off in the tub. So I gave him a typical response, smirking at him as I reached up and patted his head. "You're nonsense. But that's okay. You're a good nonsense." And with that, I lead the rest of the way into the cafe. Shit, I think in a round about sort of way, I just told him the truth... He was the reason why I was avoiding eye contact and ignoring people and being all broody. Him and his fucking sex appeal.

But no need for me to tell him that.

End of Chapter!

Soundtrack for this chapter: Taion by The GazettE, Uzu by Kagrra, Kagerou by Buck-Tick

AN: I should do more of these soundtracks... XD This was so much fun. If none of you heard any of these songs, just youtube it. They're all there. Please tell me your thoughts. XD -Bows- Thanks for reading!


	10. 10

In the Middle of the Night Arch: Untitled Preface: Chapter 9/?

Cafe Bankai was a terracotta building sitting on a modest, residential crossroads, just a ten minute walk from the university. To say it was popular with the college students was putting it mildly. Anyone who needed a quick sugar or caffeine boost stopped here, and the 24-hour service stamped on the door meant they didn't exclude anyone, early birds and night owls alike. Inside, the kiosk to order at was in the front, a glass counter displaying cakes, pies and other assortments of sweet pastries to match the choice of drink, while beyond that was a sea of tables and lounges.

Pop culture photography covered the walls as classical music, modernized by faster tempos and electrical instruments, drifted in from the high ceilings. It was something you would expect in a trendy coffee place these days, but what they lacked in originality they made up for in the quality of their products.

Ichigo was a regular here, at all hours of the night and day with his friends, and occasionally he would stop back at the dorm to give me one. I could still remember the first day he bought me one. It was a Saturday morning, a rare chance for me to sleep in a little on a night when my insomnia wasn't bothering me. Still in my pajamas and shuffling lifelessly around the living room, trying to get my bearings, the last thing I expect was Ichigo's handsome face to grace me with it's presence. He appeared out of thin air, when my eyes would barely be awake enough to recognize general shapes let alone anything resembling a human being, with the steamy scent of java persisting me to wrap my hands around its warm, Styrofoam then when he spoke, it was like angels singing a celestial tune straight from heaven and out of his mouth.

"I got one for you. You like coffee, right? I overheard you complaining about the coffee in the cafeteria. Don't worry, I promise this isn't decaf."

The first sip was automatic. When there is good coffee teasing my nostrils, naturally my mouth follows the blissful sensation, attracted to the beverage like a moth to a bug zapper. The second sip was able to go down a little smoother, and an explosion close to an orgasm raked a shiver across my frame. And Ichigo had been the one to give it to me... For the rest of the day, the coffee he'd given me slowly disappeared, as I was reluctant to part ways with it too soon after he gave it to me. It even tasted better than most when it went lukewarm. That darling little cup had lasted me until the early afternoon, and when we had crossed paths again, I had to thank him once more for it. He told me it was no problem, that he would give me coffee anytime I needed it. Why wasn't I married to him, yet...?

Wild movement at the corner of my eye caught my attention, waving me back from the delightful floating around cloud nine my circling mind was occupied with. The erratic gesture was easily visible, as there wasn't a very large number of people around. A slow Tuesday morning meant the entire place was only slightly over-populated, so this dilapidated state must be what employees mean by complete, and one-hundred percent dead. There seemed to be a perpetual line of about four or more up at the registers, but no one was sticking around.

Momo continued to enthusiastically twirl her arm in the air, her efforts doubling as we looked toward her. "Shiro-chan! Strawberry-San!"

I almost chastised her for that. Almost. The only reason she got away with it is because I was having too much of an amused kick at Ichigo's response to hers, as he held up his arm and waved back. "Peach-San!"

Her other hand joined the first one in the air. "Strawberry-San!" She was standing on her tippy-toes, or as far as she could get to that height with her black flats. She was as adorable as I remembered, and while she wasn't in a sundress, the skinny jeans and off-shoulder green top suited her. But one main thing that was different was her hair. She normally wore it up and covered in public, but now it was in down and flowing around as she jerked from side to side, match Ichigo wave for wave.

Ichigo started running toward her, gracefully dodging any tables and chairs that stood in his way. "Peach-San!"

She moved around the table and met him on the other side. They clasped hands, as if they were old friends and seeing each other here was a coincidence, and they were rough with utter happiness at seeing each other again after so long. Nope, that was me and Momo, not Momo and Ichigo.

"Strawberry-San!" They started jumping up and down, hands still clasped, and huge bright smiles on their faces. This was... very adorable...

"Peach-San!"

"Strawberry-San!" I wondered if this was some sort of play on an inside joke of theirs... I had to figure out what brought this on.

"Peach-San!"

"Strawberry-San!" It looked as though everyone else thought this was a cute scene, as well, considering the stares and smiles they were getting. Some looked at them with pure beguilement, a couple in the corner gave hidden chuckles and knowing looks, while many others were "aww"ing at the moment. Okay, they were too much of a crowd. As much as I would rather let the two of them embarrass themselves in front of the entire place, time was wasting away, and coffee called to me.

I walked up to Ichigo, and with a well-aimed slap to the back of his head, effectively cut him off before he could yell anymore. Instead of bouncing in place with Momo, he was now bent over, crouching on the floor and holding his head. Good. Serves him right for acting like a complete moron. Momo was excused because she always gets away with these sort of antics, ever since we were little kids. There was hardly anything she could do to really make me angry with her. So I let her behavior slide. Ichigo, however, is a grown man, and I will not tolerate my future boyfriend/lover/coffee-husband to act so ridiculous in such a public place, especially if I'm with him.

"Ow... Did ya have to hit me so hard?"

I ignored the strawberry's pain and guided Momo to sit back don't at the table. The seat next to her was my target, and when he was done writhing in pain on the floor, Ichigo popped up and wobbled over to the line to go order. Hmm, I seriously didn't think I had hit him that hard. I didn't really mind what he ordered, I was adventurous. So I sat there, letting Momo be the one to eventually break the silence.

"I never knew you were Ichigo's roommate." She propped an elbow onto the table, resting her head in her hand as she stirred her cup with a spoon. It looked caramel in color, and the smell was absolutely delightful. Those playful tendrils of sweet espresso wafted into my nostrils, tickling the hairs teasingly with their torturous aroma. A sigh almost escaped me, the smell was so rich and deep, it was as if the caffeine were already pouring down my throat, my tongue twitching as if I could swallow that lovely steam. I was about ready to charge the espresso machine at this point. Thankfully, Ichigo saved me from the humiliation that was sure to follow that hasty action.

He had coffee... and things. That was quick. I took a closer look as he set the tray he was carrying onto the table. Two coffees, both smelling faintly familiar, placed between me and Ichigo, a plate of cinnamon rolls he set at the center, and a cranberry and walnut muffin was set in front of Momo. How many times had he bought her that muffin? It seemed almost... second nature for him to do that. Only a minute of curiosity and indecision passed before I let it go and grabbed one of the waiting two cups, unable to ignore it's siren-like call. This was it... The moment I've been most waiting for the entire morning...

The cup tipped over into my mouth, and that hot, freshly-made addiction of mine spilled in. My tongue swished, encouraging my mouthful to lazily caress every surface of my oral cavity. It was euphoric, all the way down to my curled toes. Every muscle in my body relaxed, and a small breath blew over my cup's edge. I don't know when I closed my eyes, but when I opened them to a bleary image of Ichigo's raised eyebrow(raised with amusement, no doubt), I regained a bit of semblance as to where I was and what I exactly I was doing. I dare not say coffee is better than sex, but it's a damn fine enough substitute for me... for now. My roommate should be used to this reaction of mine by now. This wasn't the first time I've had my first cup of the day in front of him, what's he getting so entertained for?

"Are you back to planet Earth, yet, or does your orgasmic high still have its clutch on you?"

I turned my gaze away from him, slightly flushed with indignation at his closer-than-comfort comment. My eyes landed on Momo, who had giggled at his statement. "Shiro-chan always had an affinity for coffee." She started unwrapping her muffin, which reminded me there were cinnamon rolls waiting for my own fingers. "Granny always made a pot in the morning, and he would always share a few cups with her."

Ichigo pushed a smaller plate to me, one that already had one of those sticky-sweet confections on it. The glaze was glistening in the overhead lights, urging me to plunge my fork in and rip off a huge, fluffy piece of baked goodness. I proceeded to do so, keeping my ears open as those two began to chat about me. I didn't have to step in, what Momo said was pretty accurate. She was the one that knew me the best. Besides, Ichigo had to go to classes soon, so we'll exchange words soon enough. For now, I indulged in food.

"Didn't he get hyper?"

Momo swallowed her first bite with a smile on her face. "On the contrary, it made him less irritable." I had to keep a growl down my throat at Ichigo's smirk.

"I would have liked to meet her."

Momo glanced at me, confirming her next statement to be true. "And she would have liked to meet you. She had a great sense of humor!"

I snorted from behind my cup. "She had a perverted sense of humor."

"Shiro-chan!"

"What? It's the truth! She said Kenny Rodgers was sexy!" Who in their right minds would think that? She had fallen for an American country singer, and an old one no less! I don't know why she liked even that kind of music in the first place. "Have you seen a picture of the guy?" He's ancient!

She got that look in her eye, the same one that parents tried giving their kids to scold them, even though you could clearly see they agreed with them. "I'm sure that he was young... once, but I'm sure older men in general wouldn't be very attractive to young people like us." Ichigo snorted and she turned her head to give him a blank stare. "Something in your throat, Strawberry-San?"

He smirked. "Nope. A bit of hypocrisy just went down the wrong tube, that's all."

Finished with my sticky bun, I leaned forward, resting my elbows on the table, the precious coffee cup snugly surrounded by my hands. That's right, my precious. "Are you referring to Momo's attachment with that Aizen vampire?" She blushed, but I was more interested in Ichigo's response.

He shrugged, his shoulder lazily rolling as he started cutting up one of his own cinnamon buns. "Partially." Was there another instance I didn't know about that that reference alluded to? Must be. He lifted a forkful into his mouth and flashed me a toothy smile before closing his mouth and chewing, a fluttering sensation teasing the inside of my stomach as his tongue poked out to catch a stray crumb. An entire shiver ran throughout my body as he suck excess icing off his finger, and then settled in my groin as he washed it down with a swig of his coffee, the ball of his throat bobbing slightly with the effort.

Momo nudged him in the shoulder. "Off to class with you. You'll disappoint your art teacher if her favorite student arrives late!"

Ichigo groused, standing up with a small pout on his lips. "I'd much rather stay here you lovelies." I threw a half-assed glare his way for calling me lovely. He glanced as his watch, as well as the clock on the wall near the entrance, and stretched. He was instantly forgiven when I saw the skin of his stomach peek out from under his shirt. "But I suppose you're right. That teacher is scarily adoring of me." It's hard for anyone not to be.

He gave Momo a kiss on the temple, whispering something out of my hearing range. She nodded quietly, smiling, and that piqued my interest, but let it go so as not to appear nosy. Maybe Momo will tell me what it was if I asked nicely... Did he tell her something about me? That was my first hypothesis. Did he asked her about something? That was my second guess.

A hand was in my hair, rubbing my head firmly in an affectionate gesture. "I'll see you later tonight." And with that, leaving me no room to argue about the juvenile treatment, he turned and left, grabbing another sticky bun on the way out. I glared after him, promising silently to myself extreme pain and certain death when I see him next, or at least another punch for mockery. I wasn't child. He knew that, but decided to tease me anyway! That called for something bloody and violent to happen. Violent: my punch. Bloody: his nose.

Momo touched my arm, bringing my attention back to her. This was supposed to be our time together, a chance for us to get caught up with each other after being split up so long ago at so early an age. Princess Peach and Prince Shiro-chan, those were our nicknames at the time, a time where I didn't mind it one bit, a time where I had been at my happiest. Well, I was pretty happy about getting a hot carrot-top as a roommate, but that was about the only other time and feeling in my life I could compare to what I felt in my childhood. Peace. Happiness. Joy. A chance to live normally, with no one around to criticize me for my hair color, my wealth, or my brains. I lifted my palm, letting her place hers in mine as we sipped coffee and munched on goodies. Everyone else might have had the wrong impression about it, but we didn't care. This was comfortable, this was friendship, this was what it felt like to have a sibling.

"Shiro-chan, let's go visit granny's house sometime?" Her head bent, looking at her coffee and half-devoured muffin. "It would be nice to see the old place... if anyone took care of it. If not, maybe we could take care of it..." I could see true sadness in her eyes, sadness about never being able to go to that place since we were children, sad about no one caring enough to take good care of the property. "I suppose I could have gone without you, but it wouldn't have been the same. I know that place means as much to you as it does to me, that's why I promised myself I would never go there unless I reconnected with you."

I couldn't help the smile spreading across my face. She always did have a soft heart, it was something I teased her about, but really, it was something faultless. "Sure, I'd love to go with you." That had her beaming up at me.

"Thank you." I nodded, and she turned back into eating her muffin. I grabbed another cinnamon roll, there being only two left after Ichigo stole his second one.

We talked for awhile, about what we were doing now(Me in college and her working at a prestigious hotel chain that paid staggering amounts of money), my parents' trip in North America(who would be absolutely ecstatic about Momo coming back into my life), and how she, astonishingly, did not meet Ichigo through Aizen. It was in the open streets of the farmer's market, when someone had pushed her into him. He bought her lunch and then compared groceries. Apparently, she had strawberries and he had peaches. That was quite the coincidence, one that I wouldn't haven't minded witnessing.

I told her about my ability, the one that freezes in the night and coerces carcasses to crawl out and follow me everywhere. It was hard at first, not knowing how my best friend, my sister, would handle it. She handled it normally, like it wasn't the biggest secret in the world, and that she had expected something like this. "When I met you at the mall, I could tell something in you changed. It wasn't until later that night when Aizen-sama mentioned you defeated a vampire using your necromancy. I was the one who pleaded with him to let me escort you to the club."

I finished off my coffee, putting it on the empty plate in the middle next to Momo's. "I thought the same. You had changed, and not just your wardrobe." Shifting, my head rested on my upturned palm as my elbow was placed on the table, the linked fingers of our other hand still undisturbed. "What happened, Momo? How did you meet Aizen?" From her carefully blank stare boring into the table, I could tell it hadn't been under very good circumstances. When she took a breath, I was proud when her voice came out stable.

"It was after Granny died."

My heart stopped. For full second, it stilled in cold dread. Was this the reason she never came back, the reason I never saw her again? Aizen... what did he do to her...? She probably wouldn't even have answer that question if it had been someone else, that or she would have lied about it. But because it was me sitting here and holding her hand, she was able to tell me what I had missed, what she had gone through, and the strength she had gained because of it. I didn't want her to say a thing, if only it would wipe that tearful look on her face, but it also looked like she needed to get this off her chest, that if she didn't tell me now, she wouldn't be able to say it ever again, for anything, it would be locked in perpetual darkness forever, never to see the light of the forefront of her mind.

Encouraging her was all I could do, squeezing her palm reassuringly to let her know that I wasn't going to judge, that I was here for her, and that she had nothing to fear from me. I will be understanding and I will still love her and protect her as much as I could, like a big brother should, even though she was three years older than me. When we were kids, it was always like that, me acting more like a big brother mental, even though she was older physically. But we didn't mind. It came up in a few arguments, but was all in good fun. Now I had a chance at living up to that job.

"Everyone was in grief. After the funeral, we went home and all we did was cry. A wonderful family friend had passed away. We were all in shambles, discombobulated, suffering. For an entire year, we grieved." Momo's voice shook, and she took a moment to take a deep breath. "Before summer came again, during March when snow was still melting, my family made plans to get into contact with yours to try and get us together again. My parents thought that, maybe it would be nice to be surrounded with support from family and friends, and I was so excited! One face that I was sorely missing was yours, and I couldn't wait for you to wrap me up in a big bear hug and tell me it was okay. You were always good at calming me down. You were my best friend, and if anyone was going to make me smile again, it would be you no one but you."

Her heart was on her sleeve, almost always was, the biggest weakness and strongest point about her. She could either move people to love and care and actually give a shit about the topic with her words, or open herself up to attack from cruel cynics and pessimists who didn't give a damn about anyone's opinion but their own. She affected me like the former. There were times when childish and immature comments from me sent her to Granny's arms, but that had been a wall, so she wouldn't see just how much she had mad me care enough about her to call her family. And now she tells me her feelings were something akin to mine.

I sit up, putting my other hand atop hers as she started to get teary-eyed again. It was all the comfort I could offer her as she recounted her very obviously painful past. It's must've been greatly traumatic, more so than anything I could ever imagine, more so than Koga's death. A quick glance around tole me there was hardly anyone here, and no one was near enough to listen to our quiet conversation. Privacy was always a value to me, because having somewhat famous people as parents made me weary of crafty media eavesdroppers. Really, did some people have no class?

"Toshiro." That startled me, rarely did she ever call me by full name, but most of the time she was really serious. "It was so horrible, and I wouldn't wish it on my worst enemy. What I went through was of utmost and exceedingly great torture... literally." The last word was so quiet, my ears had to strain to catch it. "I... I was kidnapped." I squeezed her hand with both of mine as forced out those words, relieved when she squeezed back. It was weak and barely noticeable, but it was there, and it gave her a little strength to continue. I wasn't going to interrupt her with questions and concern over her well-being, that wasn't the right thing to do, it wasn't the right steps to help her with her come to terms with her story. All she needed from me right now were my ears, nothing judgmental and no accusations.

"Walking home from school was normal for me, because I lived so close to there. My other friends were too busy that day to walk me home, having after-school clubs, study groups and family errands to run. It wasn't the first time that happened, so I thought nothing of it and went on by myself. It was sunny, and I was humming along with a tune stuck in my head, and since I was told by a few teachers I had a nice voice, I started practicing on my own." She took the handkerchief to her watering eyes again. She didn't make a single sound, attempting to take some time to dry her eyes in silence. "The were a number of footsteps, really fast, like someone was running, but I didn't get a chance to even acknowledge it until it was too late, and a bunch of big, mean-looking men restrained me. They blindfolded me, roped me up like cattle, before dragging me off the street. I was so scared..."

I could feel her shaking through our linked hands, and I asked her if she wanted to stop, but she only shook her head in denial, refusing to stop now that she's gone this far. "I really need to get this out before it closes up my throat for good. I want you to know... Why I'm with a man like Aizen-san, and why I'm so different than before." Momo's face was a little red, but dry, as she tuck the piece of cloth onto her lap. "I won't go into detail what they did to me, but it was extensive, over a long period of time. Someone told me it was three years before anyone found me and reported it to the police." She sagged, her hair covering her face. "That person was Aizen Sousuke."

Something about that struck me as weird. "Odd. He doesn't seem the type of person to do that sort of thing without personal gain."

She grinned, the first time doing so since the beginning of her story. "That was my exact thought. Because he only reported the men after having a talk with me. Well, he talked, I could only move my head in certain movements to agree or disagree because I was in so much pain." What did she agree to? That question must've shown on my face, because she gave my hand a pat, as if to say that it was okay, and she knew what she was doing. She pushed away her hair, revealing the side of her neck. For the first time since meeting up with her again, I noticed to white scars at the side of her neck. "He healed me, and in turn, made me his first and only human servant."

There was no recollection of that term in my brain, but it couldn't have sounded good. But it couldn't have been bad, either, since Momo was sitting in front me, well-dressed, well-fed and able-bodied. What was this contract between Aizen and Momo? Between Master Vampire of the City and a human servant? "So... What does that mean?" I asked cautiously, a little afraid of the answer.

She grinned, her face contorting beautifully with sudden mischievousness, confidence, and an air of egoism. Momo, egotistical? That was a complete one-hundred-eighty-degree turn from the Momo I used to know, and I wondered briefly if I should be frightened. "Well, I have these cool psychic powers that I share with him, even when either one of us is asleep! And I'm faster, stronger, and heal well above normal, almost as fast as a shape-shifter! If anyone tries to kidnap me again, I can give them just one little punch and knock out a few of their teeth!" Her enthusiasm reminded me of the few rare times I've met Orihime, a bit flighty and comically entertaining.

Her improved health and her abilities gave me a little relief, but I was still concerned about this shady Aizen character. I've only met him once, and he had practically force the job of rushing these rogue vampires out of town. This was something I had no confidence in completing, and I wouldn't put it past Aizen to deal out some sort of punishment if it didn't get done before they moved on to some other territory. I would assume, after Ichigo's mentioning of certain incidents that had me both intrigued and cautious, Aizen was trying to make a name for himself, and he was willing to use anyone, including me, to get it. That bastard.

"I'll do anything I can to protect you. You know this, right Hinamori?" She nodded, holding up her right wrist to show my pendant wrapped around it in a makeshift bracelet, smiling.

"I know."

A smirk spread across my face. "Good, because if you refuse my help at any time, I'm sure a few tales of Bed-wetter Momo and her adventures as a kid would be most amusing to your precious 'Aizen-sama.'"

She flushed. "You wouldn't!"

A sly, knowing look accompanied the smirk. "I would." That simple confession sent her into a bout of lecturing again, Granny's name popping up more than once. I let her rant, because even if I were able to stop her, my words would go in and out right away. It almost made me feel a little guilty teasing her so much. Almost. The small tirade she created left her flushed and breathless, leaning her head on the table as she caught her breath. These entertaining little tantrums were something nostalgic and sorely missed. I patted her head. "You okay?" A nod. "You done?" Another nod. "More coffee?" A shake of the head. I may put her through a lot for the sake of my boredom, but she knows this. The only reason I imagine why she still wears herself out is because of habit. Asking her not to freak out is like asking Ichigo to stop being a drama queen, nigh impossible.

We talked for a little while, about mundane stuff, until Momo had to leave for work. After plugging our numbers into each others phones and a long good-bye, mostly from Momo(I told her not to blame me if she was going to be late), we parted ways. She went to the hotel in the center of Karakura, and my feet carried me back to the university. I could have gone to the dorms, there was nothing out here left for me to do. For a reason that still shrouded itself in darkest, the though of going back to my dorm alone was unappealing. Logically, it would be more boring out here rather than inside, considering it's where my laptop, books and homework are. None of that seemed to appease me.

I checked my watch. Ichigo should be getting out of class in a few minutes, and looking at the builds that surrounded me, I was very close to his classroom. Debating only for moment the pros and cons to bugging him, the most attractive one was his face. For the time that we've gone here, neither of us met each other just outside our classrooms. So after going through the first doors that lead into building, two halls, three flights of stair, a straight shot down to the other side of the building an at the door on the right, students were just filing out of the studio-like room just as I was arriving. Class was over, and the teacher was piling out with her students, but the only mop of orange I was seeing was Inoue-san's hair. In fact, I spotted several of the orange-top's friends, including...

I detached the collar from around my ankle before walking straight for the tall, brown-skinned man that had just ducked out of the doorway. His hair was a dark, unruly mop, but one eye was still visible most of the time, and right now that eye swiveled to fixate on me. Or more importantly, to stare at the collar I held in my outstretched hand. A moment of silence passed between us, thick and uncomfortable for most most of the people staring at us. Inoue-san and Ishida-san were trying to ask questions, but they gave up quickly when they received no response from either me or Yasutora-San.

For almost two minutes, neither of us moved a muscle, and my arm was getting tired from being extended for so long. He didn't look like he wanted to take it at all, as if the inanimate object might bite him if he tried to touch it. But, very slowly, he bravely lifted his arm so that, eventually, the collar rested in his large hand, small and delicate, jingling slightly as it was pulled toward his face.

"...Thank you."

The guy didn't say much, but when he did say something, he meant it. His company was preferable to the others that were now starting to surround us. Ugh... Didn't Ichigo tell them I wasn't very social, and therefore now feeling a little awkward? Well knowing him, he probably went out of his way to tell them I had something absurd like anthropophobia... Which is why they are probably staring us down. I had to get out of here, it was becoming too stuffy and cramped. Everyone was keeping a couple of feet between me and them, but that didn't stop the unsettling feeling closing around my throat. Giving Yasutora-san a quick nod, and ignoring all the people whom I didn't know or socialize with because they were to stupid and I too young, I made a hasty beeline to the classroom. To prevent anyone from following me, I closed -no slammed- the heavy door behind me, leaning against it to catch my breath and work the lump out of my throat, while my heart resumed something that resembled a somewhat normal beating pattern. Looking around the room didn't help like I thought it would, considering who was still in here. It was completely empty, save for one person sitting in the corner playing with a pile of clay.

I had to stand absolutely still and check my pulse when he came into view. It was erratic again. His large frame was bent over, his spine in a beautiful curve on the stool as he leaned in to pay close attention to some small detail in the sculpture. His shirt sleeves were rolled up to his shoulders, letting the muscles in his arms flex and relax as he moved them in a sharp, confident manner. Booted feet were caught on the stool's lower bar, hiking up his knee so it could balance a lump of clay at the end of his smock. Yes, it was a smart thing not to wear a uniform during art class. Stains like that had to be hard to get out. His face, furrowed and frowned in concentration, was still smooth, unblemished, and attractively intense. His eyes were fixated, not moving at all except to follow the handiwork left behind from his skillful fingers. His other hand held a cup, which could have been anything, really, I was too far away to tell what it was.

There were no attempts by any strangers to get into the classroom. It remained silent on both sides of this door, and since I didn't want to break Kurosaki's focus, I decided to stay here, leaning against the door until the other was finished with his work. It gave me ample time to study what he was trying to replicate. The basic structures were down and connected, cylinders and blocks of clay were fused together. Various other works were in different states of progress, and I could tell the theme was famous buildings. So looking hard and Ichigo's familiar building, I try to find why I recognized it so much. My roommate continued to work, carving out the windows in a meticulous and steady manner. I had seen him draw and paint and sculpt before, but none of those times compared to now, how his hand stayed almost mechanically precise.

Fascination gripped my throat as delicate arches formed, ending at the window's ledge. The smooth wall of clay was dug into, and with the right tools and skills, he created the indent of the window pane. He added extra clay for the designed separation of the window space, and columns to frame it. In ten minutes, he created one window. There were a few more in that area, as well as other areas of the structure, which meant he'd been working on it during the entirety of the class. From close up, my memory would probably trigger where I've seen this building, but I didn't want to bother Ichigo's work, even though class was over. I liked these rare, intense and quiet moods he gets into, the seriousness he puts into a round of deeply working for hours on end until something distracts him out of it, and he's all smiles again. I like his smiles, but I like this face of his, as well. Orihime-san said she always liked watching Kurosaki's face when he was in "work-mode," and I could not help but concur.

There was a long paper towel on a different table halfway between me and Kurosaki, holding out small things with detail, such as latticework, statues and streetlamps. One rectangular piece of clay had something carved into, and I had to tip-toe over to get a better look and tried to read it.

Мариинский театр

Russian... I was a little rusty with that language, but I tried to sound it out anyway. Ma..riin...sky... thea... tre. For a second time within the span of half an hour, my breath caught in my throat, choking me as it formed a solid ball of unspeakable disbelief. The Mariinsky Theatre. No wonder... I snap my head to look back at Ichigo's table, wide-eyed and open-mouthed as the unfinished building sparked a flashback to when I first heard about it.

"Toshiro, your parents want you to learn at least one dance, it will help you with balance and poise, and when you as a girl out, you won't have two left feet!"

"But Granny, I don't want to learn how to dance. Besides, that mean instructor keeps hitting my fingers whenever I get something wrong, even on the first try!"

That's why they told me. I can teach you."

"Granny, you know how to dance?!"

A slight giggle. "Yes, Momo. I used to do it for a living. When I was young, I had a huge talent for it. And was finally able to be a part of something spectacular!"

"Where, Granny? Where did you go?"

"Were you famous?"

"Did you have a boyfriend?"

"Like that matters!"

"Does too!"

"Does not!"

The old woman held up her hands to silence us quarreling children, a small smile of amusement on her face. She only spoke when the both of us quieted. "I know you have many questions. Here." She brought fourth a photograph. "This is the State Academic Mariinsky Theatre, though when I was a part of it, it was known as Kirov State Academic Theatre of Opera and Ballet."

We children ogled the picture with wide, bright eyes and impressed stares at the intricate building shown behind her in the picture. "Wow, you did ballet?"

"I don't want to learn ballet!"

Granny chuckled again. "No, I know many dances, not just ballet. Come, come... I'll teach you how to Waltz..."

The memory faded, leaving me once again to stand here in the art room, with bits of detailed clay taunting me, as if to say, "psych!" How did he know about this? I doubted it was random coincidence. This building was such an obscure part of my history, I could not help but wonder if what he was doing had been influenced by Momo in some way. They were friends for a few years before I came into the picture, so it was possible he knew about that little memory...

Was that what he was thinking when he pulled me onto the dance floor? He knew Granny had taught us a dance when we were younger, was he hoping to dance with me based on that little experience I've had? Did he think that even though I had two left feet, he could magically make me dance normally, or appear to, with the rest of the crowd, that I would have some sort of sense for a beat in the music, even though I knew absolutely nothing at all about dancing to fast-paced songs? If he thought it was genetic, he was out of luck. Granny wasn't related to me or Momo, and if Granny, who had dancing in her family background, couldn't teach me, I seriously doubted that he would be able to do so, even with his... witch powers.

My feet were no longer quiet, I pivoted to walk around the table, the only obstacle in my direct path toward that sneaky, slimy, thinks-he's-all-that orange-top. I really wanted to hit him now that the scene in the club had be clarified, but I resisted. He was making a beautiful replicate, and with Granny's memory to consider, I settled for tapping him on one of his massively muscular shoulders. that got his attention without him messing up. As soon as his gaze was off his building and onto me, the wrinkles in his serious face relaxed into calm surprise.

"Toshiro..." I resisted the reflex for my normal response to my name. "What are you doing here? Shouldn't you be with Momo?"

I scoffed, pulling up a stool of my own to sit on. "She had to get to work." His head tilted and face turned somewhat blank.

"The hotel?" I nodded. He nodded in response. "Then shouldn't you be in karate?"

I shrugged. "That can wait until tomorrow. But I'll allow you to escort me to kendo in a few hours if you wish."

He chuckled. "It would be my pleasure."

His body was relaxed, his hand that was previously holding a tool, now dropped onto the desk, reached to take hold of the clump of clay on his leg. Now that I was sitting closer, the contents of the cup flashed into view. A nice mixture of of softened clay and water, a mushy mash that made it easy to bind large clumps of clay together and stay together... Or so Ichigo told me.

"Let me clean up. Then let's get something to eat? I haven't had anything since the cinnamon rolls from this morning." I nodded in agreement. I wasn't all that hungry, but if he was asking me to accompany him, did he really expect me to refuse? "Here." He handed me the ball of clay. "Keep yourself amused while I clean up."

I took the clay, but instead of playing with it, I had to ask him before we left. "Kurosa-" It was a sad day when I was silenced with a glare. How stupid of me. "Ichigo..." His glare suddenly turned into a bright, inquisitive smile. The clown. I hate clowns.

"What is it?"

I glanced at the building he was working on, the familiar contours of the place threatening to work me up again. "Why did you choose to recreate this theatre?"

"I didn't." His response drove me to look at him with curiosity and suspicion, both of which encouraged him to explain. "Our assignments were to build a miniature model of a famous building for a contest to see who could win a free, all-day trip to the art exhibit in the summer. I absolutely had no muse for this whatsoever, and was in such a mope about it, Momo kept asking me what's wrong. I didn't want to do anything cliche, nor did I want to do anything too obscure. That's when she told me about the Mariinsky Theatre. When I asked her about it, she told me that when she was younger, Granny told her and her childhood friend all about it. So after seeing a multitude of pictures, I went for it."

Crossing my arms and legs and giving him a pointed look, I fished the truth out of him. "So you knew..."

He shrugged, turning to go into the backroom attached to the classroom were all the supplies and cleaning stuff went. "Not until Momo showed up to take us to Aizen's club. But yes, I knew." He then disappeared into the back, taking off the art smock along the way.

Distantly, the faint sound of running water reached my ears, and I could hear in clear intonations that he was washing his apron off before hanging it to dry, then washing his hands and arms, which had been caked in clay. A scene from a movie I'd seen a while back made me wonder how good he was at the pottery wheel, and if I would ever get a chance to be with him like that, making a mess around the entire room, my hand deep in wet clay, trying to mold it into the best bowl shape I could muster, while trying to avoid teasing kisses on my neck from Ichigo as he sat behind me.

A spark of lust crept up my spine as I imagined us kissing, petting and screwing each other crazy the messy room with messy arms and legs. It was too much, I had to push this fantasy away, tuck it in for another time that I had free and to myself. There was going to be a serious tent in my legs, and I'd rather not let that happen right now. Right now, the squishy ball of clay in my hand was deformed from the pressure of my fist, which had tightened the moment I was thinking about messing around with Ichigo in a roomful of clay. This wasn't a pottery wheel, but it was something to start with. So on that note, I began to shape it, rolling it back and forth between my palms so it took on the form of an egg. I pushed my thumbs upward, pinching the clay slightly to resemble eyebrows, and pushing a fingernail up under them and between the to resemble a nose. Next, my fingernails pinched the clay underneath the nose to form something looking almost like lips, and the pad of my thumb smooth over it the best it could.

I didn't get far, and before I could protest, the head was taken from my hands and held up to Ichigo's eyes for scrutiny. If he says anything bad about it, I'll punch him. He knows I kind of suck at art.

"Not bad, Toshiro..." I lifted an eyebrow at the small praise. "It kinda looks like a cross between a pig and a duck." He laughed as I finally let go of my self control and punched him in the gut. That jerk.

-End of Chapter-

Yay! XD Finally! I'm done moving, and finally am able to post this! Behold! My longest chapter to date! (Nearly 8,000 words) I hope you enjoy! -Bows-


	11. 11

In the middle of the Night Arc: Untitled Preface: Chapter 10/?

Dinner was spent at a quaint sushi diner, a space barely wide enough to fit a couple of additional booths, and long enough for ten people to sit shoulder-to-shoulder at the bar to watch the chefs work. Tonight had been a slow night for Shinso Sushi, the number of people during our stay could have been counted on one hand, and there was a feeling creeping up my throat that if Ichigo hadn't offered to pay, and therefore picking this place out of the blue, I might have dragged him off somewhere expensive and lavish. Yes, I'm rich, and I've acquired my parents' expensive pallet for fine dining, which is why that coffee shop was so surprisingly good. Sue me. I refuse to be blamed for the hereditary gain of my pampered taste buds.

Instead of dwelling on the faults of my gustatory cells, I guided my chopsticks to latch onto a piece of Nigirizushi, topped with anago, held firmly together by a thick strip of nori. This appealed to me the most out of the entire arrangement, and it tasted alright despite the fact that it wasn't puffer fish from my favorite restaurant on the other side of the city. I could be a picky eater at times, but there was no way in hell I was going to let my snobby stomach make an appearance in front of my present company. Speaking of the person sitting across from me, Ichigo had just finished his third piece of sashimi and was now taking a swallow from his nearly empty cup of tea before starting on his fourth. How can that guy eat so much and never seem to put the weight on?

On the way here and up until we've received our food, he talked about what he'd been doing with his independent projects. Not his current sculpture sitting at his work table, but things he's been doing every now and then in his spare time. It was a one-sided conversation considering my lack of drawing skills, so I had no reassuring advice to offer him when he was complaining that an oil painting of a woman tending to a garden was annoying the hell out of him because he couldn't get the hue of her hair just right in the sunlight. He'd sold it just a week ago, along with a sketch of a fan-tailed raven in mid flight, for a hefty chunk of change that was deposited into his savings account. It was going towards a new car. And then there was Yachiru, who was bothering him about drawing a pretty picture of a bloody, gory zombie to frame and hang in her room. His only response to my lifted eyebrow was that she liked zombies, more so if they was wearing pink, and that I wouldn't want to know anything more than that.

I tried to remember the last time he showcased his talent in front of me, but it's been at least a month, give or take a week... Seeing his hands work at the clay back in the art room rose a strange desire of mine, one that was usually easy to block most of the time. In my eyes, Kurosaki's hands were sexy, and watching the sensual way they moved was like watching porn. I made a mental note to shove a sketchbook or canvas into his hands at some point. His creations are never around the dorm for me to appreciate and just thinking about the number of locations he could have stored his masterpieces in gave me a headache.

Then he went on to tell me about how his idiot father ruined one of his paintings when he barged into his room with one of his "Good Morning" surprise attacks. I didn't understand that. Who attacks their kid first thing in the morning like some sort of human alarm clock? The apple didn't fall far from the tree, or that's what I thought from my first impression of Ichigo when he told me a similar story during our first week in our dorm, but since I was beginning to see an entirely new side of him, I retracted my judgement. We were past being complete strangers, and he was changing into a different person from the facade I was introduced to. Everything I knew about Ichigo was on the surface. Ever since the hidden elephants in the room were exposed(our powers), we've been talking more than we have for days, even weeks, before. There was so much he was opening up to me about, there was a lot for me to take in now that I was a part of his life. Because, let's face it, there was no way he, nor I, was letting me go back to my rich life of ignorant bliss. If lady luck decided to stay on my side, I just might be able to fulfill my dream to figure him out, after all. That's a hard, and near impossible goal to shoot for, as no one could ever, one-hundred percent, truly know another, but they could come close. I just need time.

It took a bit of prodding, but eventually the conversation drifted to a different subject. I didn't understand art very well, case and point being my pig/duck hybrid from earlier, and it was cute listening to Ichigo babble about it for a little while, but my attention span would not allow him to continue. Somehow, he managed to drift to a subject I was thoroughly interested in.

Magic. Immediately, he showered praise over his little sisters, whom were becoming stronger by the day. "Karin is getting better control with the elemental magic she inherited from mom, though she's still having trouble with manipulating water. And Yuzu takes after Dad's healing and light abilities. If you ever need stitches, don't go to the hospital. She can close it with little to no scarring. She hasn't learned to address more serious wounds, but dad said she'll be ready for it soon."

"What's your specialty?" And bully me, I was able to keep myself from sounding too fanatical when I asked that. He gave me a confident smirk.

"I have father's dark magic abilities, since he and I are the only ones in the family that carry a sword. My speed is better than his, but my only capability in healing is through potions, ointments and salves. Give me the recipe, and they turn out better than Yuzu's, almost as good as my mom's, and that's saying something considering the amount of power she had when she died."

Instantly, my lips down-turned in a saddened frown. I wasn't aware he was without any of his immediate family. "I'm sorry to hear about your mother. I know what it's like when a relative you're close to dies." Granny had been the center of my entire world in my younger years, more so than my actual parents, so I could tell by the love and care in his voice that she had been the center of his. The only person who was even closer to me was Momo, and even that relationship was a little messed up only because we were just children. Fuck, what am I saying, it's still messed up, now that she's involved with Aizen and Ichigo.

He shook his head "It was a long time ago. There's no amount of crying or magic I could do in order to bring her back, I've accepted that. What's dead should stay dead, and I can confidently say the bastard who murdered her holds the same fate when I meet him again, though his afterlife will be far from forgiving." I believed him. The man was out on a mission. Something tells me that he could fight, and fight well if those well-developed arms and chest were anything to go by, and I was betting that the rest of his body was just as corded with protective strength. "May I ask what happened...?" He left the sentence open, but I knew who he was inquiring about.

"She passed away when it was cold out, a freak chill in the beginning days of September. Momo and I had just seen her the last week in August, which was only a couple days prior, and how we ended every summer together with her. But then when school let out for the second day in the midweek, my parents were home, waiting for me. I thought it was a little odd considering they were supposed to be in China for at least another month, so when I asked them what was wrong, I wasn't expecting them to hug me and blurt out straightforward that Granny was no longer alive." I played with a piece of shrimp, flipping it over and rotating it one-hundred-eighty degrees before turning it over again to lay normally on its ball of rice. "Momo was a mess during the funeral." So was I, but in a different way, and there was no chance in hell that I was going to say anything about it.

"I'm sorry." The tone of his voice told me he truly meant it, assuring me that if there was some way he could have gone back in time to prevent what happened, then he would take it. Unfortunately, time travel is currently improbable, but it was nice for him to offer. "The way both you and Momo talk about her, I wish I could have met her. She sounds like an enchanting old woman."

I gave him an affirmative nod, nothing more. My fingers release my wooden eating utensils, dropping them onto the table with the barest click of sound as my appetite diminished. A torrent of emotion was brewing inside my heart, and it took a heavy breath to calm them down. I had stayed strong for Momo when Gran died. My parents tried comforting me, but even at my young age, I could recognize a serious situation, especially when the adults tried to cover it up with sweet and sugary words. Their explanations always had a few holes, and I had felt the need to peck at them.

Remaining quiet seemed to be a good idea at the moment, leaving the silence to settle over us thick and heavy. There was no desire in my heart to cut it, instead letting my my mind retract to the world of my inner thoughts. Weighted subjects, lately known to be death, supernatural stuff, and Momo, seemed to creep up on me, closing around my throat in a surprise attack(despite knowing when they arise) that left me with a burdened and achy conscience. I didn't want to talk about my issues yet, and I wasn't going to force my misery's company out of Ichigo, either. Digging to the real meat and potatoes and hardier things were all good in theory, but the both of us had to be willing to go there. I still had to deal with killing Koga, and pick apart Momo's past and the specifics of her loyal services to Aizen, whatever that was about. I was also worrying still over the growth of my gifts; ice and death, and my bond with my family's sword.

Urahara mentioned that Ichigo would be the one to help me develop my powers concerning Hyorinmaru, and since my physical capabilities with handling the sword was so advanced, he must have been talking about what happened to Koga and how my family heirloom managed to turn him into a giant icicle from the inside out. We had yet to set aside a time and place to practice, having spent most of our morning and afternoon apart, but I was sure we'd plan something tonight. But then, Ichigo wasn't the planning type. He'd probably drag me out of class and off to the woods just because he'd thought of an idea and he wanted to test it out as soon as possible, leaving in our wake a half-ass excuse for the teach about a random emergency. Er... Actually, my English teacher might be that gullible.

A poke in my shoulder forced my wandering, frustrated mind to focus on Ichigo. He had a soft, understanding look on his face, as if he knew, personally, about the strain of everything that was happening to me, as if he knew the pressure and worries I held in my heart were constricting the beat of my heart, as if he knew, through experience, how much of a burden it was to have magic running through my system, and a whole other side of me that didn't understand. His eyes were warm, sympathetic, and consoling, telling me that he's been there, and that it does get better. His confidence and faith in me felt encouraging, and my shoulders deflated, my very being alleviated. I could breath again, my pulse worked its way back up to normal, and the cloud hovering over my head dissipated. The oncoming pound in my head? Gone. The growl in my stomach? Present and accounted for. Suddenly, the sushi set before me looked shiny and tasty, and I didn't care at all about how expensive everything wasn't.

"What did you do," I asked as I once again took up my chopsticks, unable to ignore the persistence in my belly. I was ninety-nine percent sure that he did something, because feelings and emotions and thoughts don't just up and change like that.

He gave a nervous smile. "I wasn't quite sure if it was going to work or not."

My lips closed around my chopsticks roughly around the same I muttered "what worked?" It must have come out a little muffled, if Ichigo's amused chuckle was anything to go by.

"I just sent a calming spell your way. It looked like you needed it. Through my emotions and touch, I was able to push back your negative aura. It's a simple spell, one of the easiest for me to grasp and not screw up." His chopsticks grabbed a piece of fish I'd been aiming for and ate it with a smile, completely ignoring my glare. "It's usually an attack spell, negative emotions shoved into an enemy with a punch can make them go berserk and physically unable to do anything but attack. It usually works on people who only use magic and weak things with low attack strength. I tweaked it into something helpful, though."

Curious, I furrowed my eyebrows, trying to wrap my mind around such a concept. "You can do that?"

He nodded. "Yes. Actually, I think you would be good at wielding magic. I would have to find you the right teacher, though. You seem far more capable than the small amount I know."

I frowned at him, food once more forgotten. "Then what will you show me? I know how to use a sword... "

"Not the physical aspects of your sword, but the magical attributes. I can guide you, but technically, Hyorinmaru is the only one who can teach you how to use him. I can only spar with you, meditate with you, give experience and pointers to you. It'll be tough but I know I can do at least that much. Momo is experienced in the demon arts, though... And Rangiku can also help."

A cough ripped out of my throat as my tea was forced down the wrong tube thanks to my surprise. "D... Demon Arts?!"

He shrugged. "That's what the vampires call our spells, so the name just sort of stuck. You get used to it."

He then began to explain to me the types of spells, the level of difficulty and strength, incantations and effects. Apparently, witches call their magic kidou. Each spell is graded from one to ninety-nine based on strength, one being the lowest and easiest to perform and ninety-nine being powerful and difficult. This magic is not just restricted to them, Ichigo proved this by stating that Momo was proficient at it, all humans and shape-shifters and even some vampires could use these techniques. Sometimes being a witch helps and enhances their power. Other times, as with my adorable roommates case, it's like faulty wiring. They don't know when they'll go right, or left; if it will hit the target, or explode in their face.

Each spell required an incantation, a long chain of words that would complete the spell and would be at its strongest. Shortening the spell to just its name can work, too, if the person is powerful enough, but it's not as effective. There are three main types; binding spells, attack spells and healing spells. They have practical use if tweaked the right way, but not everyone does it as often as they used to. Utterly fascinated, I listened as he rambled off about the different categories of Bakudou and Hadou, about the differences of the incantations, and when they were most useful. Giddiness rose up in me, my legs almost bouncing with excitement. Ichigo mentioned that my aura felt like power, filled with more magic than him, and I desperately wanted to test his theory. Soon.

Even though we were in the back corner of the booths where no one could hear us, I didn't feel comfortable having this conversation in such a public space, especially if we were then only ones left. So we moved about, he took a break in his description of a commonly-used spell to pay for our food, and then we left, bowing to the people working there and wishing them a good evening as the door closed behind us. The evening air was crisp, cool but not freezing, and the lack of streetlights let us see a few stars up in the sky. We didn't talk again until Ichigo decided that he didn't want quiet. I though he would bust out more explanations, but he surprised me with a nudge of his elbow against me.

"Hey. Do you want to learn a spell or two right now?" Was he serious? Yes!

"Sure." The one word sounded nonchalant and agreeable, not at all like the hyper little boy who was jumping up and down like a kid at his birthday party. Points for me.

My roommate pulled away from me, heading across the deserted street in a fast walk. I followed, habit making me look both ways first to determine if anyone was coming. For several blocks he led me every-which-way to his secret destination. I didn't ask where he was leading me, I'd see soon enough. Hmm... Where could one learn kidou in Karakura? On top a skyscraper? Open fields? A special facility away from prying eyes?

"We're here." A parking lot; with nothing but rows of empty pavement stretched out before me, ending with sparse lampposts, small shrubbery and bushes that didn't quite reach anywhere above my waist. The cement was cracked and uneven, half the plants burnt to a crisp, and the building beyond was a ghost-infested, dilapidated hospital that just screamed for a horror movie makeover. Needless to say, this was not a place on my list. "We'll have to schedule time in Urahara's personal training ground, but for a spur-of-the-moment thing, this will do." At least I got one guess right. "The bushes make for easy enough targets, and since this lot is abandoned, we won't get into any trouble for tearing it up even more. It's scheduled for a demolition in about a week." I silently mourned the loss of B-movie potential in such a short amount of time.

He distanced us a few meters away from our intended enemies, a row of four, large stalks of flowering weeds. "Now, I can tell you the incantation, as well as show you the ready-stance, but the magic and the control is up to you."

I nodded and waited off to the side for him to demonstrate. He faced the bushes, knees slightly bent, posture rigid and perfect. He raised his arm, keeping it straight as he aimed his palm toward the target, fingers glued together and slightly cupped. Immediately I could feel his spiritual energy rise. His other hand went to rest on his outstretched arm, as if physically channeling his power into that palm. The results manifested into a red ball of energy, small, the size of a ping-pong ball, but it didn't stay that way. With each second, it grew, until it was the size of a golf ball, an tennis ball, baseball, and finally a soft ball. During this whole process, Ichigo started muttering under his breath.

"Ye lord! Mask of blood and flesh, all creation, flutter of wings, ye who bears the name of Man! Inferno and pandemonium, the sea barrier surges, march on to the south!" He glared down the length of his arm. "Hadou thirty-one! Shakkahou!"

The weeds didn't stand a chance. As soon as he finished chanting, the red ball in his hand blasted outward in a wide beam, obliterating all four as he moved his hand, and beam, horizontally across the area. When the light faded, there was nothing left, not even an inch of a stem poking out of the ground. Color me impressed. Ichigo relaxed his stance, straightening his knees as he gave an approving grin.

"And that's how you do it! This spell is one of the easiest to learn and master, despite being of mid-level strength, it's sort of a default spell that everyone uses, whether they're good at kido or not. Me being able to use it should prove that enough." I must admit, that was pretty cool. When my real kido training would begin, I was going to make a vow to myself to practice hard enough to be better at it than Ichigo, even though he has already acknowledged my superiority when it came to my control. I wanted to see it for myself.

"So, are you ready to have a go?"

I blinked. Huh? Looking at Kurosaki, whose head was turned expectantly to me, waiting for a (scarily serious) answer. Does he really think I'm ready to do this? He trusts me enough to take direction and execute a phenomenal spell, one that he himself was able to use? What if I accidentally mess it up? I don't want to blast him away... "You trust me to?" When in doubt, do what I do; ask the obvious.

He rolled his eyes. Yep, he was annoyed. "I told ya I'd subject myself to the battery of your high spiritual pressure for your novel curiosity, didn't I?" Did he really memorize everything I said that day? He pays more attention to things than I give him credit for. "Besides, if you do something wrong or lose your concentration, the spell will just blow up in your face." Well, that was comforting(not), but better me than him, since I obviously new how to take care of myself. I remembered his stances, the rise of his aura, the complete focus and concentration he gave his task. He looked so determined, fierce, and angry when he pulled the trigger of that kido. For a moment, I thought those weeds would disintegrate before the spell even reached them.

There was no such anger inside me like there was for him, and I had to briefly think about what sort of strength I could push into my own attack to make it just as powerful. A flint in he bottom corner of my eye caught the moonlight just right, enough for me to pull my head sown to my neck, where the shard of ice maliciously seduced me into smirking. This was going to either succeed in great strides, or end up a complete disaster. Feeling positive about the former, but not altogether dismissing the latter, I looked around for a target of my own. A large slab of pavement sticking up almost vertically from a muddy hole in the ground attracted my scrutiny, and walking over to it revealed that it was only slightly taller than Kurosaki himself, and wide enough to line me up shoulder-to-shoulder three times. This should do. It looked strong and sturdy enough to withstand my attack should it turn out weak, but should make an impressive fall if I was successful.

I turn to Ichigo, well aware that he had followed me, but not aware of his close he was hovering over my shoulder, and took a small step back to regain something akin to resembling my personal space. "So... What do I need to do first?" He made a whirling motion with his finger, directing me to face my "opponent." I did so, also remembering the form his body took even as he began to speak.

"Spread your feet the width of your shoulders and bend the knees. Good." I took karate and kendo, of course this was the easy part. "Hold out your arm, it doesn't matter which." I he;d out my right one. "When you get better control of the spell, you can do this while moving freely. Don't lock your elbow, cup your hand and keep your fingers straight."

Settling into the perfect replica of his body's earlier position under his guidance, he instructed me to grabbed onto my inner power and control the amount of output into my hand. Next came reciting the chant, and he explained the reason for it, how it is supposed to us the time and words to link the different energies of my power and the spell's without any mishaps or backfire to it's overall effect. In other words, if I break off the chant or suddenly lose concentration on what is happening: I go boom. If I complete the chant and pour all my focus into an attack: they go boom. It's as simple as that.

His voice rang out in the night as he started me off. "Ye lord!" The commanding tone almost made me forget that I was supposed to repeat it. I shook my head clear, aimed dead center of the slab, and concentrated.

"Ye lord!" My voice did not stumble, and I didn't expect anything to happen within just two spoken words, but I could feel the change. I had grabbed someone's interest by calling out. I wasn't quite sure who was listening, but I didn't let that distract me. Ichigo was saying something again, and my ears caught it just in time.

"Mask of blood and flesh..."

"Mask of blood and flesh..." It was smiling now, the one watching me. I can't say it was a he or she, because I couldn't see or hear them, but there definitely was a smile.

"...all creation, flutter of wings..."

"...all creation, flutter of wings..." There was a flutter, alright, but what was floated across my skin wasn't tangible. Foreign energy danced across my senses, pausing, waiting for me to continue the chant that would bring us closer together.

"...ye who bears the name of man!"

"...ye who bears the name of man!" A nod, a gesture to signify that they were listening, that we held their interest... -I- held their interest. There was almost an impatience to their presence, as if to tell me to get on with it already. They were very, very eager.

"Inferno and pandemonium, the sea barrier surges..."

"Inferno and pandemonium, the sea barrier surges..." That foreign energy weaved through mine, connecting me with the being this spell called its strength from. Magic fused and my control wavered slightly at the power intake. I had to grit my teeth for a moment to hold tight and focus. I could see why this would be trouble for some people to handle.

"...march on to the south!"

"...march on to the south!" All of our weird, mixed energy traveled down my arm, hot and red, to pool into a red ball of light in the palm of my hand. I watched it grow as the energy kept traveling. There didn't seem to be an end to the flow, and I realized that the strength of this spell was up to me. With that in mind, I cut off the transfer, using my other hand as a medium to drive a metaphysical knife through the stream. There was a pout somewhere in the back of my mind, disappointed at not being able to witness my spell's full potential with this strength, but I chased it away. The orb in my hand was hot, but it didn't burn me. Instead, it waited for orders. And Ichigo gave me the go-ahead, a slight nod to let me finish on my own.

I held out my hand, facing the slab of cement standing before me. "Hadou thirty-one! Shakkahou!"

The red ball of light shot forward in a horizontal pillar of destruction, dead center into the intended target. The entire thing crumbled to bits of rubble, nothing larger than the size of a fist remaining. Debris rained across the area it was propped up in, and no vegetation was going to survive that explosion, much less the falling rocks. For a moment, it was peaceful, there was nothing but the sound of dust skittering along the ground and dispersing into various directions by the wind.

The presence left me, and I was once again alone in my body and in my head. So this is what it felt like to use offensive magic... The after-effects of the rush alone was enough to leave me cross-eyed and a bit dizzy. All of that power rushing in and rushing out in such a short amount of time, not even my death magic worked like that, and the trip was nothing to shake a stick at, especially when it leaves me slightly nauseated. Ugh, side effects... I think I need to sit down before I fall down in a rather unpleasant, unappealing heap.

I sank to the pavement, my butt a little sore as I hit a piece of rock jutting out from the rest of the ground. It was ignorable compared to what I was feeling right now, which was a strange combination of "shit, I'm awesome" and "I think I'm gonna be sick." Did Ichigo feel this way, too, when he first started using this kind of magic? Probably not. He was using magic when he was way younger than what I am now, it was in his family.

Cool hands lifted my bangs and was placed on my forehead as I concentrated on breathing. "Well done, Toshiro. That was great! A little too much power for your first try, but otherwise not bad!"

Resisting the urge to give him both of my middle fingers, instead they clasped the hands on my forehead and move them away, using them to help hoist my tired ass off the ground. He muscles bunch with the effort to help pull me up, and I had to advert my eyes to keep my brain from drooling bloodily out of my nose. As soon as my feet were steady enough to support me, my ass worked on getting the dirt and rubble off my pants. There was going to be a bright and shiny bruise by the following morning, no doubt about it.

"Here." He handed me a piece of chocolate. "This will make you feel better. Magic uses a lot of energy, especially if you put a lot of power into it. Eating sweets helps with the nausea."

Grateful for the consideration, I took it and broke off a small piece between my teeth. "It sounds like you've had personal experience." He shrugged.

"Everyone has at some point. In the beginning, we don't know our own strength, so we often find out very quickly what our limits are." He looked me over, his eyes drifting from head to foot. "Feel better?"

Surprisingly, I couldn't lie when I gave him a nod. Not that I was able to lie to him on a general basis, but I really did feel better. I wasn't at one-hundred percent, but the urge to spill the contents of my stomach all over the pavement was less. I took another bite, glancing around at the parking lot. The concrete that had been my target was obliterated, alright, along with everything in the path behind it, disappearing into the hospital. The parking lot had a long, indented line, and the hospital wall had a large hole that lead into darkness. I couldn't see anything beyond that point, so it was a safe assumption the blast didn't breech the other side.

Ichigo flicked my shoulder. "Let's go. Getting some sleep should also helps with the fatigue. I'll call into your kendo class and tell Kusaka that you'll be skipping."

Kusaka was a popular person, so it wasn't unexpected that Ichigo knew of him. Anyone remotely knowledgeable of Kendo would know his name. The orange top had told me once before that he thought about trying out for kendo, he had sword training, but that training was specific to the Kurosaki style, so he opted out. His sister, Karin, had also chosen to learn it in the family, and Yuzu avoided carrying a weapon at all.

I saluted the idiot. "Yes, Doctor Kurosaki."

He gave a chuckle at my sarcastic response, turning around to lead the way out. Sometimes, I think he knows me a little too well. For instance, when I'm joking and laughing, or when I'm trying to be serious and when I'm upset at him. He knows my weakness for coffee, and how I dislike candy unless it's chocolate on occasion. He knows when not to push a subject if it's really touchy, and he always takes advantage of when I'm caught off guard to rope me into doing stuff, like shopping last Sunday. It's kind of scary that he knows so much about me, and here I doing know as much as I thought I did. What motivates him to be so thorough with knowing complete strangers right off the bat?

Wait one minute, I wasn't a completely stranger to him. Urahara's words filled my head as we recalled our conversation. That's right, Ichigo's dreams had included ones of me. Before we'd ever met, he already knew me. But... how much of me did he already know? I remember asking Matsumoto this at one point, however, she didn't know. It was something only Ichigo could tell me, and that I should wait until the right time to bring in up. Well, now felt pretty good to me.

"Kurosaki." He glared down at me, but I felt an abrupt immunity to it, considering right now I well and truly felt like I didn't know him. "You dreamed of me, didn't you?" His face skewered with curiosity, wondering what I was getting at, before he nodded, something I expected since I already knew the answer. "I thought as much, Urahara-san said so." Next was the big question. I choose 'What's in Ichigo's Head?' for two-thousand, Alex. God, I need to stop watching Jeopardy on Saturday nights. "May I ask what it was about?"

He stopped at the end of the driveway that lead into our little training ground, back rigid and stance alert. Just that moment was when I realized he was walking a few steps in front of me, so I couldn't see his face, but judging from the body language, I thought I had hit a nerve. He didn't really have to answer me if it was that bad, but had me kind of worry. Did I die? Was I tortured? Hacked into little pieces and hidden in the walls?

"Kurosa-"

"Shh!" He sounded... annoyed. He never gets annoyed with me. A little frustrated when I foil any plans he has that includes me, but rarely annoyed.

I stepped up to him, raising my head to peer up at his face. His brows were furrowed, and his eyes were dancing wildly around the area, as if he expected someone or something to pop out and scare the ever-living crap out of us. One of his hands hovered in front of me, while the other one was at his shoulder, ready and waiting, as if he'd pull a spell or weapon out from his back. He looked ready for battle, ready to kill, and no one could stop him, not even me.

Confused, my eyes roamed over every place his had been. There was a mailbox just across from us, several shops further down that were closed for the evening, trees were swaying in the wind, and the streets remained empty. That, alone was suspicious. It wouldn't have been so bad if my first encounter with Koga hadn't been the exact same setting of eerie quiet, but now my brain spoke from experience. There was something off, here, and there was no way it was going to get by me or Kurosaki, unless they roll him again. That would be a bitch, considering that that would mean having to kick his ass again. But he seemed mostly in control, and my feet lead me a few inches away from him, just in case.

The wind howled again, and its light tune sent a shiver down my spine. There. A voice was singing a lovely melody, enchanting and powerful. This is what he was listening to. I looked around again, wondering where it was coming from. There was no sign of the woman. Yes, a woman, there was nothing masculine about this sound. Why did this have to happen right after our training? I still felt a little fatigued, and although my recovering energy had made progress, it wasn't enough to use more magic and keep standing. That would be a hindrance to Ichigo. There were no weapons on me, so I couldn't rely on anything but my own fists, and remembering how much of a hassle the fight with Koga was, that though wasn't very reassuring to me.

"Boys." We turned, the greeting coming from behind us. "Why am I not shocked that you didn't fall under my spell?"

This woman, whose voice sounded much like the one on the air, had a large, satisfied smile on her lips, as if she knew a big secret, with the expense on us. Sharp eyes gleamed mercilessly as hidden imagery passed through her mind, and we were both sure she was probably thinking of some cruel way to dispose of us. Koga had been able to entrance Ichigo, but not this one. She had power, but she had no where near the strength of the second strongest in the group. Still, that wasn't any reason to completely dismiss her, either.

Her hair billowed in the wind as she took a long inhale, closing her eyes and almost looking euphoric. "Yes, you are the one who killed Koga."

Ichigo's eyes narrowed, blocking me from her view, and her from mine. "Who are you, Bount?"

"Well, well.. How very astute. Would you like a gold star?" Unable to see anything, I leaned around Ichigo's waist in time to see her sweeping bow, a mock greeting, of course. "Yoshino Soma. And may I ask the names of the ones who put an end to Koga's unduly long life?"

Kurosaki seemed to think about it, eyeing her down as his eyes narrowed further. He was waiting for an attack, but none came, and so through clenched teeth, he reluctantly answered. "Kurosaki, Ichigo."

She reached out her arm and beckoned to us with a whirl of her finger. "And the one hiding behind you?"

The statue of Ichigo in front of me was only solid for an instead longer before his whole body went into action. Out of no where, the space behind his back shimmered, and a giant sword materialized, it's hilt gripped tightly in his hand. The wrappings around it came lose as he brought it forward, the tip directly lined up with Yoshino. The glare was harder, something I didn't think possible on his often-scowling face. Something fierce and determined was set in that furrowed brow of his, and it almost made me forget to breathe.

"You don't get that privilege just yet." And with that, he shot off toward her with incredible speed.

His quick launch into attack mode didn't even phase her. In fact, she seemed almost lethargic in taking her time to respond, slowly bringing her hands together in front of her, bent over as if to brace herself for the intensity of her own attack. On one wrist, she had a bracelet, and on the other hand, there was a claw wrapped around her middle finger. I stayed at a distance, weary of the power she was about to unveil.

With a scrape of metal against metal, the sound ringing unpleasantly in my ears and making me wince, sparks flew, and before either I or Ichigo knew it, there was a giant fireball nestled in the center of her hands. With a battle cry, she let the ball of energy fly towards Ichigo, and he had barely just enough time to bring his sword up and deflect the blast skyward. Both of us followed its course toward the vacuum of outer space. The tail end of that attack, the streak of light that dispersed as the fireball grew weaker and small in size, was almost bright enough to turn the night back into day. He saved our asses that time.

"Have I earned the knowledge..." she put a hand on my shoulder, face inches away from mine. "...of your name, yet?"

Frightened as I was by her close proximity, my words came out crisp and clear, and I could hear Ichigo in the background cursing as he headed straight for us. "Why do you want to know that?"

She smiled again, and this time it reached her eyes. "I want to know who to thank for putting a fire under Kariya's pants, and the one who would finally end our clan's wandering, rejected souls." She cupped my chin with her fingers, making me look into her eyes. They were pretty, a hazel brown and green color, but that's all they were, just eyes. "Your name..."

"...Is none of your damn business!" She dodged, stepping to the side and pushing off as Kurosaki's huge blade came down to the ground right in front of me. That scared me a little, but I had trust he knew how to use his sword and not hit the wrong people, namely me, but that was a really close call. As soon as she landed a safe distance away, she conjured up another fireball from her accessories and threw it at the both of us. Ichigo had no trouble in grabbing me around the waist and heading off to the side, the blast passing them and traveling the path mine did mere minutes before, into the hospital. Though, unlike mine, hers visibly cut through the entire building, and I had a moment to think about what other sort of damage that attack could do before facing Yoshino once again.

I really wished I had my sword on me. My ice magic could really help in this fight, turning all those fireballs into snowballs. And I could turn her into crystal, just like Koga, though I still didn't know exactly how I did that, yet.

Ichigo's power built up, his sword gleaming with light as it filled with his spiritual energy. The next words that came out of his mouth were absolutely beautiful, followed but the sword's one-of-a-kind attack. The blade was held high above his head, and he swung it in a huge arch forward, directing a beam of light Yoshino's way. "Getsuga Tenshou!"

The speed of his attack was surprising, but Yoshino, being such an acrobatic vampire, flipped out of the way with ease, though when she landed on her feet finally, Ichigo was all of a sudden there, swinging his sword with the intent to cleave her in half, and her blocking it with a shield of smoldering embers gathered from the red-hot debris along the floor. They danced around the parking lot like that for a while, Yoshino blocking every single hit, and trying to find time and openings to create some distance between them, and Kurosaki not giving her the chance, slashing so she would have barely any time to react.

Wishing I had my sword with me, I felt my aura to see if I could go another round with Shakkahou. I still felt a little queasy, but another round of magic wouldn't send me into unconsciousness. That was the good part. The bad part was being able to hit my target, unless I warned Ichigo, and therefore warning my target, I couldn't risk shooting off a spell without getting him, too. But still, I had to try.

I took note of their movements, getting into the ready stance and raising my power of ice and death inside me, beckoning like shark bait to the lord this spell called out to. I waited patiently until Yoshino managed to get the distance she'd been fighting for, and with that, I raised my arms and recited the chant once more, channeling the power of the spell into my palm. Ichigo must have known I was planning something, he was in my line of fire, and after I finished speaking, he tumbled out of the way, perfect timing when my spell blasted past him.

"Shakkahou!" The second spell came from Ichigo as soon as he got back on his feet, joining with mine and hitting Yoshino square in the chest, sending her backwards in a flying spiral. Her pained grunts caused by our combined attack signified a successful and powerful hit, and a little part of me inside rejoiced that I had been somewhat useful.

I didn't get to see her fall, Ichigo was running toward me, grabbing my hand, and pulling me through a line of trees. We were escaping? Why? Was that not as good as I thought it would be? Did he know something I didn't? All I could do was follow him now and then thwack him over the head later. We needed to make sure she was dead, not run away like pansies. We were winning! And as soon as he stopped in the middle of the clearing, my hand automatically shook loose from his hold and thwacked him over the back of his head. He could be such a moron sometimes.

"Idiot, what are we doing running away?"

He rubbed the spot where I'd clocked him one, chuckling at my serious accusation. "Because we need Hyorinmaru." Oh, he realized that, too, huh? "Somehow, I don't think this Yoshino chick is going to let us call a timeout and let us get back to the dorm in order to get our weapons, so we'll do the next best thing while we still have the time."

I narrowed my eyes, sitting fully on the ground. "Speak." The command was short, simple and to the point, something no one could get wrong.

Ichigo rolled his eyes, but complied. "I think it's time to teach you how to conjure your sword to your side."

Done.

AN: Yay! This took a while, but it's up! I hope you all like it! Also, please go check out the AWESOME fanart for this story on my profile, done both by Mymomomo, and Moon's Wing. (Yay!) You guys totally rock! Thank you so much! And while you guys are looking at AWESOME fanart, feel free to visit my poll if you haven't done so already! XD

Until next time! -Kuro


	12. 12

In the middle of the Night Arc: Untitled Preface: Chapter 11/?

AN: GAH! I am sooo late with this chapter! -Rolls around on the floor-

"I think it's time to teach you how to conjure your sword to your side."

It was the weirdest sentence my ears had ever had the pleasure of hearing, because trust me, hearing about magic was tough enough. My throat was knotted closed in bewilderment, even as a million words raced through my mind, my extended knowledge of the vocabulary was useless. In the end, I could do nothing but stare at him, as if he were growing multiple heads like the Hydra of ancient Greece mythology. He needed to be more elaborate when saying weird things like these. But my voice box was rendered completely flabbergasted, while my brain imagined all sorts of mini-me heads popping out if his shoulders. I would have said that this ability couldn't be done, that you don't "conjure" things to your side from subspace like in the cartoons, if I hadn't seen it for myself during the beginning of that battle with Yoshino. When he stood in front of me, his hand hovering over his shoulder, I was expecting a spell of some kind to appear, not a giant, cleaving sword!

And now he expects me to do the same? Sure, the test run we did with my magic had some good results, but was it really necessary to have me learn yet another skill tonight, considering I was a beginner? If it was a showdown between that or becoming vampire chow, then go ahead and sign me up. Why couldn't these Bounts leave me alone? First Koga, now this Yoshino woman, and she only sought me out _because_ of Koga. Because I killed him. And now, I would probably have to kill her, too. Not for obvious reasons, like trying to kill me to provoke me into doing so, though that is also a good motivational reason, but because I made a deal with the Master of the City. It was now up to me and Ichigo to kill the entire Bount clan, or face the wrath of Aizen. Not really wanting to cause trouble for Ichigo, and having no other back-up plan to support my reluctance to do this, I sat myself on a rock and waited for him to finish scanning the area to make sure we were alone. He startled me when he started to speak, but he didn't stop looking around.

"Don't stress, it's pretty simple." Yeah, that's reassuring. "All you really need to do is just go into your inner world. You can materialize it from there." Not really grasping the concept of that idea, I sat there and wrapped my finger around it, trying to figure out how to do it. Nope, not a clue. He swirled around to look at me when the silence thickened. "What?"

"Hyorinmaru is in our dorm. How does that work?"

He sighed, probably exasperated that I was asking for so many details, an walked over to settle in the middle of the grassy clearing stretched out before me. Well, excuse the hell out of me for being so unaccustomed to pulling weaponry out of my head! He stabbed his sword into the ground sword, letting it jut out at an angle in case he would need to stand and grab it in one quick movement. "Your inner world, the plain of ice that's governed by the spirit of Hyorinmaru. There is a place inside of you, where your sword is always waiting. Find it, grab it, and bring it back. When you come to, your sword will be fully materialize at your side, no matter where else it had been. Since it's sort of illegal to run around with a sword attached to your back or hip, we've devised this little spell. Nifty, ne?"

"Swell." I crossed my legs and slumped my back a little, trying to get a bit more comfortable since there was no telling how long this was going to take. "And if I don't come back before Yoshino finds us?"

Ichigo smirked. "I've got your back."

He wasn't lying to me. When looking into his eyes, that statement rang true in my ears. I was counting on him, trusting in him, to keep me safe and alive until I got back, until Hyorinmaru was successfully in my hands. That confident demeanor promised to protect me with his sword, kidou, and his own body parts if necessary. A tickle in my throat, a skip in my heartbeat, and a pause in my breath all helped make my face flush a little, and I quickly turned my head and coughed to hide it, though I don't think that was fast enough since my ears picked up Ichigo's chuckle of amusement. Must he always find delight in my embarrassment? I didn't even have to spare two seconds on that answer, and swiftly, I tied up my emotions, gagged them, and stuffed them into a stuffy sack before tossing it into a closet at the back of my mind. This was no time for me to go weak in the knees, there were more pressing issues right now.

Exhaling, my chest lifted so that my posture would straighten out, and my eyes slowly closed until my vision was black. With Ichigo out of my sight, I could concentrate better, and this position was familiar to me anyway, used quite often for meditation. After combining our powers together just a couple nights ago, My sword, the dragon Hyorinmaru, said our inner world would be accessible at any time, not just through dreams. It was time to put that statement to the test. Ignoring the sound of grass and trees rustling with tonight's mediocre wind, or the chattering of various bugs and critters, pulled my senses inward, to concentrate on my world of ice and snow. My eyes didn't crack open for a single millisecond until I felt frozen precipitation on my face. Think of the landscape, and it shall appear. And no surprise, along with that landscape, came the dragon spirit, standing with full-winged glory in front of me where Ichigo sat only moments before. The great dragon's head was bent down to my level, and I gave in to the urge, raising my hand to pet him on the neck.

His scales were smooth, glued to every inch of his reptilian skin, making it feel like textured glass. They perfectly molded to his hide, none of them jutted out sharply in defense, nor in worn disarray. He was an exquisite creature, one that had only existed in my fantasies before recently, as well as vampires and shifters and witches... Meeting all these ethereal beings for the first time was a great shock for me, but something told me this was only the tip of the proverbial iceberg. However, meeting these creatures at such a slow pace in the beginning, I was able to keep calm and my composure. So far, I've been able to accept everything with natural ease, which that had me thinking about my lineage, and where my sword had originated from. Was my destiny always tied into this sort of life style? Did my parents know about any of this? Had they been lying to me all this time?

That would be an interesting subject to ponder in-depth with Ichigo later when we are in our dorm. Hyorinmaru's sword was in much higher demand at the moment. Sending a small prayer to whatever gods that exist for a bit of luck and guidance, and hoping to gain their favor, I prepared to ask the majestic dragon for help. The worst that could happen would be for him to say no, right? "Hyorinmaru? May I ask you, the other half of my soul, to help me in search of our power, the sword you reside in?" The voice that answered me was deep with old wisdom, roughened by his reptilian nature, and made my skin crawl and shiver with goosebumps with it's power. It was the same tone I remembered from our first encounter, when I would hear him roar across the skies, still unable to see him from underneath the wall of grey clouds. His blood red eyes shifted to look at me, an intimidating experience, but I kept my ground right next to his face. I would not be afraid of him, of my family's heirloom, of the other half of my power. I will meet him with respect, adoration, and pride, like a dragon should be greeted.

"Unfortunately, no matter how much I want to, I cannot aid you. You'll have to achieve this task alone." He swirled off the ground, winding around my body before slithering into the sky. "However, I am allowed to give you a hint. I will be hiding out in the open, and you will touch my blade before you see it." As he disappeared into the clouds, his voice grew fainter. "Good luck, hatch-ling. I have much faith in our newly combined abilities."

No matter how small it was, a hint was always helpful, even if it was shrouded in riddles. my brain had always proven to come through for those in the eventually. Hiding in the open, I'll touch it before I see it. Hm... There was nothing but fluffy clouds and flat ice for miles, so that statement could be taken literally. The mountains in the distance were unreachable, and there were no boulders or odd icicles where it couldn't easily be spotted. Was it conceivably under the ice? My foot pushed away the snow on the ground, revealing nothing to be there, only deep, black ice. My hands join with my feet in covering over a larger expanse of surface area, but unfortunately, the results were still the same. After clearing a good portion of the plains that resided in my immediate vicinity, I gave up. It wasn't under there, and I was doing a good job of wasting my time trying to hopelessly dig for it. How was I going to find him in this snowy world? There was no trace of it in the ice, and I would have seen it if it were floating in the sky, unless it was doubtfully hovering above the bleak and dreary, overcast weather.

Worried, my legs carried me around a short patch of snow, pacing my nerves away to allow my brain some sort of semblance to thinking. There wasn't much time, Yoshino could be attacking at any moment, and even though Ichigo was far better in combat than me, there was still a nagging feeling inside me that needed to help him as soon as possible. Trying to get my mind off him was impossible, so I had to think of Hyorinmaru's clue, which was the only way I'd be of any help to him. I would touch it before I would see is what he said, and I scratched the back of my head, racking my brain for the littlest misinterpretation. Was it a literal meaning and would I have to walk around with my eyes blindfolded? Or did I have to call it out from some darkened place? No, that would contradict what he said about it being in the open. Unwilling to give up just because there were a few impossible question left yet that needed answers, I glanced around the scenery, around this perpetual, cloudy day. The the sky was a light grey, and the mountains in the background almost faded into it. The snow was pure white, and the ice a glassy sheen, glinting in the sunlight...

Light bulb!

Holy Benjamin Franklin, I just had an idea! If I used my sword in this inner world, concentrated all my energy into visualizing its shape, it could very well appear in my hand, just like it had for Ichigo! Perhaps I needed to create an exit with it, like splitting open the ice, in order for me to successfully materialize it in the physical world. It was a shot worth trying. Hell, it was my only shot! If this didn't work, I was absolutely clueless of what to do next.

Closing my eyes, I breathed deeply in a meditative manner. My body slid into a stance that resembled what Ichigo had done earlier; planted feet, parted legs with my weight supported equally between them, Posture slouching, ready for a fight. My left hand came up to block, while my right hand reached over my shoulder, mimicking Ichigo, where I imagined my weapon would appear. Here goes nothing. With every ounce of energy I could muster, I formed my sword in my mind, into the exact shape and feel of my family's important heirloom. The sheath, the handle, the blade, everything that I could remember. I concentrated hard on every detail, every perfection and imperfection there was into my awaiting hand.

The handle was cool and solid against my fingers, and I wrapped them securely around it, grinning at my success. Hyorinmaru was with me all along, and the only thing I had to do was seek him out with all my heart and simple concentration. Without opening my eyes, I moved forward, bringing my sword out of its sheath and slashing in a downward arc, releasing our combined power to split the ice beneath us open. When my eyes opened, I was falling into the darkness that shaded the ice, the tip of my sword slicing through the air beneath me and gracefully leading the way down.

Within the blink of my eyes, the real world was around me, showing little has changed in my surroundings, until I saw the battle raging throughout the clearing between Yoshino and Ichigo; be it in mid air, or on the ground, using speed and strength I never knew either was capable of. There were spots of fire dotted around the clearing, trapping me and Ichigo within, and probably keeping anyone else from helping us out. There was no doubt about it that this was Yoshino's terribly aimed work. She was the one in control of this kind of fire, these hot, emotional flames that flared out with ferocity from her delicate appearance. But it was only fire from an artifact attached to her wrist and finger, sparked whenever she scraped the two of them together, and taking whatever form she wished of it. Right now, Ichigo was keeping her busy with sword-work, his huge broad sword ringing against her blade, a western-styled steel that could have come out of the American medieval times.

Gazing at strength of their fight made me almost forget why I was standing here in the first place, sitting on a rock well out of firing range and gaping like an idiot at the seasoned and almost professional way they clashed. Hyorinmaru's ice blue hilt was gripped tightly in my palm, the metal guard a four-pointed star was cool to the touch, and the long blade gleaming sharply in the moonlight, the length of it just slightly longer than my own body. And only now did I realize that my scabbard was tied to my back from shoulder to side with a green sash, secured by a bronze clip in the middle of my chest. It was kind of cool, and I spared a few moments to test the weight of the sword, and to test the movement of the sash. It felt lighter than air, and it was really easy to move my shoulders.

With the dragon spirit of my inner world resonating in the sword and up my arm, tingling with power and anticipation, it was time to give our new power form, to see how far we both could extend our combined magic. A cold tingle ran through my blood, so cold I thought my veins would freeze, even though it felt wondrous and ecstatic as it coursed through my body. There was no way to hold it back, I needed to release it...

The cold was oozing out every pore of my skin, and the invisible barrier known as my control shuddered, threatening to break. Hyorinmaru's deep voice was distant, but still understandable as it guided me, and told me a spell that would release this pent up energy. With these words, our power would be unleashed through the both hands on the hilt, I called out, keeping myself firmly braced against the rock for any backlash. "Sōten ni zase, Hyorinmaru!"

With that command, I swung Hyorinmaru on a single, horizontal strike, executed with precision and confidence, pouring every once of overflowing power into it. What came out was nothing short of phenomenal. An ice dragon, in the shape of Hyorinmaru, flew out into the spreading patches of fire, and what were once intensely heated flames, were now tall stalagmites of sparkling ice.

I blinked, not believing that this ability came out of my sword, the one that was always hanging in my father's study my entire life, normal, dormant, and now sporting a long chain with a crescent blade at the end. Unsure how to deal with my large amount of power output, I was feeling much like I did when I cast my first kidou spell and had to sit down. The ice dropped the temperature in the air and brought both fighters to the ground to step back and take a break from attacking and defending, regathering their strength as they looked around at the sudden change of scenery. Naturally, I rushed to Ichigo's side, never mind the stumbles I make at the lack of my own energy. This was not a time to be sitting on my ass.

"Kurosaki! How long was I out of it?"

Too tired to openly argue about my habit of calling him by his last name, Ichigo merely shrugged. "You were gone for all of five minutes before she swooped in. Guess our diversion didn't work all that well. I've been fighting her for over twenty minutes, now." Glancing down at Hyorinmaru, he smirked. "I see you were able to pull Hyorinmaru out, though. As expected from the boy-genius."

Waving my hand and shrugging my shoulder, I digressed the topic off of me. "So what's going on? Why haven't you... defeated her, yet?" I absolutely refused to say "killed her," but that's the soft-heartened side of me poking through. Yeah, once my powers killed someone, that didn't mean I wanted to kill someone again, regardless if they were vampire or were-animal, or human. True, she was trying to kill us, but I didn't get a terrible vibe from either her or Koga. Something was off about them, and we already knew Koga's story. The reasoning behind Yoshino's actions still remained enshrouded with mystery, but it was possible for their stories to be quite similar. I feel more evil in Aizen than the both of them, combined and doubled. Looking at her from across the expanse of the clearing, which had been turned into a field of spiky ice statues, she was in a similar state of exhaustion, but that was no excuse to let our guard down. She was, after all, a supernatural being. Still standing defensively in front of me, despite being out of breath, Ichigo answered.

"She's fucking good at long distance. I'm better at close combat, but she hasn't been giving me any chances to get near her. Just a minute ago was the first time I was able to get close enough to her to get the upper hand and take a serious swing at her." And I had a feeling that I'd somehow messed that one up... Oops.

I can say with absolute certainty about how little I know of Ichigo's fighting style. Before tonight, he'd never even thrown a punch in front of me, except for the time when Koga took control of him. But that fight wasn't really of his own volition, and I doubted those sloppy, uncoordinated attacks had happened with any shred of conscious thought or personal style, so I had completely dismissed it as an example of comparison. From what I had witnessed at the parking lot, Ichigo was one hell of a fighter, and I as well, but not quite at that scale, not against these opponents, ones that were easily a hundred times stronger than any human walking this earth. We might be the only ones able to handle them, since we had powers of our own, but I wasn't sure just how far that would get us, considering how young and unpredictable they are.

Glancing down at the shiny steel protruding from the tight clutch of my hands, following the blade from the tip to the hilt, where a long chain flowed down to a crescent rapier at the end, a nervous thought flew through my slightly shaken mind. This sort of weaponry was unfamiliar to me, and it would probably take me a few months on intense training to master it. The only weapons I had ever trained with were swords, staffs and knives in my basic karate classes, so I can only hope that those skills will carry over and give me some sort of luck for this new released form of my family's ancestral possession. With Hyorinmaru's help, our power has potential, and the opportunity to grow even stronger. Ichigo had already said as much when we were doing spell work. Maybe things aren't as hopeless as I keep fearing they will be, if I trust in myself and in my sword.

I'd hate to sound slightly egotistical about this, but why the hell is everything revolving around me? The Bounts are after me because I'm powerful, the Karakura vampires want my help because I'm powerful, my friends are involved, my family is involved, my ancestry is involved... Urahara said it was in my future, but how well can you trust modern fortunetellers these days? It was really starting to piss me off. Sure, I hoping for some excitement in my life, but I promise I was hoping for any of this. I have had enough of everyone's secrets, and random supernatural beings I've never met before trying to kill me, just to get me to kill them first.

Irritated on a new level, and planning to cure it by inflicting all kinds of hurt on Yoshino before sending her back to Kariya, I stepped up to be side-by-side with my roommate, sword at the ready in one hand, and the long chain and sickle wrapped around the other. She was still standing across from us, mirroring our defensive postures, and probably waiting for us to attack her with some sort of trap in mind. The artifact on her fingers and wrist were sparking, charged up and ready to throw another fireball at us at a second's notice.

My eyes darted to Ichigo's face and caught a dark, emotionless expression, a serious display that I found both handsome and troublesome. "Ichigo." I whispered to him, but he did not look at me. "Ichigo." He didn't even talk to let me know if I had his attention or not. Angry, I kicked at his leg. "Kurosaki!" It wasn't a hard kick, just a tap to get him to listen to me, and it worked.

Brown eyes softened and glanced down at me, still keeping Yoshino in his peripheral vision. "What?"

I also kept a weary eye on her. "That fire power she controls comes from the ring and bracelet." His nod confirmed he already knew that. "Distract her." His confused look prompted me into explaining. "Try to make her focus on you, so that I can catch her off guard. Understand?"

Ichigo smirked. "Got it."

Pausing to give me a wink of encouragement, he shot off across the field, Yoshino retaliating by backing away and jumping into the air to throw a fireball at him. He dodged to the side, in the opposite direction from where I was standing, and she followed as he lead her away. Perfect. Although I couldn't fight in the air like they could, something told me that it was a matter of not knowing how to rather than being unable to do so. It's sure to come up in my training, but for now, it was time to stick to my plan. Ichigo wouldn't be able to fend her off forever.

I ran across the clearing and into the woods, she wouldn't see me coming under the canopy's cover, and hopefully Ichigo was keeping her too busy to notice me any other way. The moon was bright enough to light the area around me and made it easier to maneuver the tree trunks, the forest was thick but not all that hard to navigate. Hopping over roots and dodging low-hanging branches, it didn't take me long to catch up to them, if the clang of his sword and the brightness of her fireballs were any distinction. Breaking through the treeline, their fight came into full view, with Ichigo and Yoshino battling in the air yet again, and hesitation had my body paused a few moments until Hyorinmaru's voice echoed through my head.

"Do not worry. As long as your aim is true, the chain will reach her. It will lengthen and retract at your will. Now, hurry!"

Needing no further prompt, and once again undeterred by the distance, I ran forward, the ice cold chain firmly in my grasp. When the distance between us was comfortable, I whirled the chain off my arm in a wide arc and threw it with all my might at Yoshino, imbuing it with the ice cold energy within me. The chain wrapped around her right leg, secured with the crescent blade, and I pulled dropping her to the earth as her leg began to glow, a thin layer of ice crawling from the metal links to cover her thigh.

Allowed a small reprieve from fighting, Ichigo was yet again by my side in a flash, nudging my shoulder and grinning. "Good one. Did you know you could do that?"

"If you are referring to the ice on her leg, no. With a little help from Hyorinmaru, I was able to throw it at such a long distance, but it's a nice surprise to see that it freezes what it traps."

She hit the ground hard, and I poured a little more power into it, causing the ice to creep along further up. I had initially aimed for her arms, but the leg would do, and I hurried to reach her wrists and prevent her from using her fireball magic. Unfortunately, I wasn't quick enough, and there was an explosion just as I was about to ice her shoulders. The blast kicked up a massive dirt-cloud around her form and sent my chain and sickle back at me. Catching it with ease, Ichigo and I kept our guard up as we waited for the dust to start settling, my ice no longer able to contain her. And there she stood, unharmed, her entire limb encased with a fiery and glowing armor.

"So... It looks like I'm going to have to ante-up the power if I want a real fight. Let's see how well you manage when I'm at full power."

Ichigo glanced at me, and I could tell we were both thinking the same thing: holy shit. There was no time to think or make up a plan, as Yoshino's armor transformed and now covered her entire body. As soon as her shiny, flaming suit was in place, she charged, and her speed was so high, it took all our strength to match her and block her rapid volley of attacks. She no longer looked human, but instead a Goddess of fire that was ready to burn down the entire planet with a single snap of her fingers, and that was a very terrifying thought. Me? Frightened? Maybe just a little...

The fight broke apart, both of us skidding backwards as Yoshino used a dangerously precise kick and hook combination to gain some space. I had to drag a hand on the ground to compensate for the shear force of the blow and to keep myself from falling over, my roommate doing the same and stopping just in front of me. There were bigger and brighter flames surrounding Yoshino, it looked like she was powering up, and giving it everything she had, and just what made her so confident in my abilities that she would assume me capable of killing her before she killed me? According to Aizen's information, which I wasn't too keen on believing, but it was the only information I had, Koga was the second in command, and the other ranks were questionable at best. So what was making her want to go out in a blaze of glory?

She mentioned someone named Kariya when she had questioned us about our names, and Koga mentioned Kariya when he was dying. For all intents and purposes, they could have been working together to throw a mutiny against their leader, but it was equally just as possible for her to have come out here on her own after hearing about what happened to her colleague. If there was one thing I was starting to learn, it was that word travels fast in the supernatural community, at least when it is concerning me, and that didn't sound flattering at all. Aizen wanted me to kill everyone, Koga wanted me to kill everyone, Yoshino at least wanted me to kill her and Kariya, and Kariya... I had no idea what he wants or what he even looks like, because the book Aizen gave me was sitting on my bed back at the dorm, and I hadn't had time to study it. The one saving grace in all this was that Ichigo was stuck in this boat with me to console my misery.

Speaking of the devil, the orange-top was stealthily moving in front of me, inching his way between me and Yoshino as we waited on the balls of our feet for the next attack to come. I could barely even see her anymore, it was almost as if he were trying to shield me completely from her and get me to run away. That was insulting, and my temper flared. While the little fuzzy part in my heart was tingling because it was a little cute that he would want to protect me so earnestly, the more rational and prideful parts of my heart took a critical blow. I've never run from a fight, and I'm not going to start now. Balling my fists to control the sudden urge to hit him, I stepped forward to press the issue.

"Would you get out of my way? I don't need protecting."

"No." His eyes shifted back to me only for a moment. "You won't be able to ice her again because of that armor, so that leaves you only as strong as your physical attacks, and I hate to break it to ya, but she wins in that department. She switched to close combat, let me handle her until you get better adjusted to vampire and were-animal strength." He did have a point, but that didn't mean it was any less harder to swallow. No one had ever stood in front of me, in front of whoever it was trying to hurt me. I used to think of how wonderful it would be if someone tried to come to my rescue from a bully as a kid, but now all that coursed through me was irritation, weakness, and a desire to prove my own competence.

"I can take care of myself! You don't need to do me any favors!"

"I'm not doing it for you!"

I wanted to question just who he was doing it for, but our impending death was now approaching us at high speeds. We braced ourselves, rooting our feet to the ground and swords at the ready. There were several unsatisfying thoughts circling my mind, a few counter strategies, memories of my parents and Hinamori, and the prospect of potentially dying with an unfulfilled bucket list were among them. She was coming at us with full power, but she lacked any tact, and was going for a head-on collision. At short distances, this could work, but we had enough time to either block, or dodge out of the way and strike back. The fire element in her armor was another thing, and it made me think twice about even poking her with my sword... That sounded all sorts of wrong on every level. Note to self: never again.

Just when we thought that there was no time to stop her, and nodding to each other as we simultaneously planned to split apart to the sides, she jerked to a halt, and in a blink of an eye, a man was standing in front of her, his hand was buried in her stomach. Caught by the shock of such an extreme surprise, Ichigo and I could only watch with agape mouths as his fist punched through her armor and came out the other side coated with her blood and gory bits of her guts.

Yoshino's expression widened, and her mouth opened in reflex as blood flew up and out of her throat as her midsection was punctured, her armor breaking apart and disappearing around her, hair swinging wildly beside her face, framing that horrified look and locking that picture in my head for the rest of my life. The stranger said and did nothing, standing stone still while blood spattered all around them, A sight that will not leave me head for a long time. I may have claimed to be unfazed during horror movies, but I knew those cheap recreations were fake and right now, this moment was real. Right now, I was afraid; for me, for Ichigo, and most of all Yoshino. I had no intention to kill her, just to incapacitate her and help her some other way, rather than just throw the cost of her life into the trash. Now, she was just staring at me, her body mounted on the man's arm, feet dangling just a few inches above the ground. Aside from the pain and sadness clinging to the smooth lines of worry in her face, there was another emotion I couldn't figure out... Something between urgency and pleading, and begging.

And then the lights went out, and there was no one home anymore. Her body went limp after her last breath, and as if he were satisfied with that conclusion, the man threw her off his arm and into the air, discarding a worthless carcass no longer carrying a soul, an empty eggshell tossed into the trash to decompose back into the ground. She landed farther away in a heap next to the treeline of the forest, lifeless and inanimate. My limbs have become torpid, the world a bit hazy, and I slowly glance at Ichigo, who was handling this exceptionally better than I am able to. His leveled stare never faltered from the intruder, and the only sign of emotion was in the tightening grip he had on the hilt of the sword.

"I am Kariya." He said, not bothering to turn around and grace us with his face. "And you must be the ones responsible for Koga's death." He had a baritone's pitch, a confident tone, and a snobbish air to his voice. "Tell me." Peculiar, he didn't ask for our names first, and that suggested he was either being rude on purpose, or he wasn't one to beat around the bush, therefore negating any room for small talk. Something in me decided it was the latter, considering he was the one to introduce himself first. He wasn't completely without manners.

Ichigo's answer was firm as his sword was tentatively lowered a few inches. "Yes." There was no need to lie to the guy, and I doubted he would believe us if he said the opposite. The real question would be, would it have killed us sooner to lie? It was a good bet that the real answer is yes, it would have pissed him off, and in a roundabout way, lead to our inevitable demise. Giving him mental props for his experience in dealing with troublesome vampires and their politics, I took proper notes on the setting, the tension, and Kariya's rigid posture. He was sure to turn around at any moment, and there was no way Hyorinmaru is going to be lowered even an inch from its current position.

Kariya, with a sense of finality, as if his search had come to an eager halt, finally turned to face us, giving our eyes permission to see him fully. And while his face was that of a handsome man, I could tell that he had to have been in his late thirties before he was forced to live forever. There was a vertical scar on his chin, but that minor detail was inconsequential, probably a scar from a night before his transformation. His dark, red eyes were a mask, windows to the soul be damned, this one had the curtains closed.

He raised his hand slightly and pointed to us. Ichigo specifically, but I considered him pointing at us. "Why you? You're weak."

Ichigo did a half-shrug the movement limited from holding his sword. He took on an air of indifference, as if everything Kariya was saying was a waste of air. And I made sure to record every little detail about the change in his attitude, and stored it into a special little pocket in my brain for later. We were going to have a long and hard discussion about everything that has happened, and everything that he was involved with. And he wasn't getting out of it, I will make damn sure of that.

"Why do you want to know?"

Kariya did not like that answer, his eyes practically screamed the promise of murder if he didn't get anywhere soon. "He was my best friend and strong. You are weak. I want to know if there is a need to exact revenge."

An orange eyebrow, just one, lifted in a strange way, as if he found that topic to be fascinating. "Why didn't he tell you?"

"Do not waste your breath questioning me, boy!"

"Just returning the favor."

"Do you wish to die?"

"Not particularly. I have an art history midterm to ace in a couple of weeks."

I wasn't quite sure what to make of this situation. A part of me wanted to laugh at Ichigo's little quirks, and another part wanted to slap him upside the head for his insolence. This was no time to be funny. The leader of a pack of illegal vampires was here, and he wants to play with his head? I know he had experience with this sort of thing considering he knew people like Aizen and Yachiru, but wasn't he stretching it a little? Stretching... time? Had he found a way to alert someone to our current situation? That would, yet wouldn't, surprise me. He was always blunt and the very opposite of sneaky, though leave it him to stall in the best way he knew; talking. There was no sense in me intervening, trust that I really wanted to, and it took me a few willpower pills to actually stay in my spot, but my feet were ready to spring at any minute to Ichigo's defense in case things turned south, never mind the fact that this guy was probably ten times stronger than me.

Kariya turned away from us, grunting in disapproval as he folded his arms across his chest. The snobby attitude suggested a wealthy upbringing. "This goes far beyond your comprehension, children. I should kill you right now, but that would be a wasteful expenditure of my power."

"If you don't, then we'll kill you."

"I do not think you are capable of doing such an impossible thing."

"Should I prove you wrong?"

Kariya glanced back, and I did not like that smirk one bit. It did not promise anything good, nor did the look in his eyes as he turned to once again face us, interested in the challenge Ichigo had unknowingly laid out for him. "Hm.. Your proposition merits a chance of entertainment. Very well." He pointed a finger at Ichigo. "Defeat my minions, and I'll consider you worthy to die by my hand... if you don't die before then."

"You're on!"

With his proposal accepted, he disappeared, leaving us alone in the park with Yoshino's body still laying about ten yards away. Great. Just great. Aizen asked us nicely, ordered us if you squint and turn your head the right way, to go after these illegal Bount, which originally sought me out to kill them so they wouldn't have to deal with their leader any longer. No, now I had to deal with him, and the minions he was now going to send after me. The book containing their origins and history was still in my dorm, untouched, so there was no telling how royally we were screwed until we went back, but something told me we were in deeper shit than we could handle already. Unable to stand any longer than was absolutely necessary to make sure Kariya wasn't secretly hanging around, I collapsed to my knees on the ground, letting Hyorinmaru drop to the ground as my hands balled into fists, clawing dirt and grass into them. Ichigo was vaguely yelling into my ear, crowding down next to me and trying to get me to look up at him so he could check me over, but my thoughts and worries were louder, and he was easily ignored.

Let's count them, shall we? First and foremost, there was the threat of the Bount hanging over our heads. We don't know what his true objectives are, aside from sending his followers after us, and that is a little scary. I assume he has a plan, considering his group has been in town for a while. There was a price out for their heads, so they were either very brave, very stupid, or very smart. Assuming the worst, which would be the last one, would be the least likely to get me killed. Secondly, training for the heavy extent of bearing Hyorinmaru's seemingly limitless power. Ichigo won't be the only one there, and that makes me kind of nervous. Even though I know Urahara and Momo, it would be weird fighting against them, even if it's just for sparring purposes. Momo had always been timid and genteel. Part of me is looking forward to clashing blades with Ichigo, but the rest of me, my stomach specifically, was twisting and rolling around in knots. Then there was Aizen. He had a plan, as well, and his plan included both me and Ichigo. My roommate seemed to know how to do deal with him, and I'm thankful for that, because I don't trust anything that man says. What were the details for those mysterious incidents? How did Ichigo come to meet him? I can't specify on how much we need another serious talk, and it was tempting to make it right now, here in this spot.

But I need a shower. I need the comforting ambiance of computer lighting and a large book to fill in a few blanks. I need to be alone, and not anywhere near Ichigo, who was shaking my shoulder vigorously to get my attention. He had it, alright, and not in a very appropriate manner. I learn something new about him every day, and if this goes on, I'm afraid of doing something regrettable and shameless, a step in a direction we could never back away from.

And truthfully, that scares me more than anything on that list.

-Chapter finished-

AN: Yesh! I'm finally finished with this chapter! XD Took me a while, ne? I apologize for the inconvenience. So much has happened recently, and I fell out of this for a few days, but here it is! I hope everyone loves it! Please tell me what you think and don't hold back! Reviews give me sustenance! XD

Also! I'm starting to go through all my older chapters and overhaul them through a tough beta-ing and such to try to make it better and to give the chapters actual NAMES! Feel free to re-read them if you wish! =D


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